


Dangan Ronpa Re:kindle

by Deadcanons



Series: Re:kin_dux [1]
Category: Dangan Ronpa, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Multi, Near Future, Original Character(s), Other, POV Original Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-20
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-01-04 22:12:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 40
Words: 171,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1086254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deadcanons/pseuds/Deadcanons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Made by fans, about fans, for fans. Please enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Notes will mostly consist of explanations of various references made during the canon, and will usually be at the end. Nothing big has been discussed yet, so there's not much to say here.

Dangan Ronpa Re:kindle

PROLOGUE: THE SPARK

            Clouds scrambled across the sky, like sentries chasing an invisible enemy over an expanse of endless blueness. Grass danced in a light breeze. Sunlight played behind eyelids, vaguely orange and bright; like sunspots, like watching paper burn away, red then black then gray then gone. Trees flexed their waxy leaves in the wind and then clenched their roots in the dirt, as though bracing themselves. I kept my eyes closed, feeling the heartbeat of all of this around me, transfixed by the memory of something recently forgotten, determined to stay that way until I remembered what it was.

            My name is Flynt Coal, and I'm late for the first day of class.

            I know I'm late for several reasons. One is because, as far as I can tell, I'm lying in a field in the middle of nowhere. I still haven't opened my eyes – partially because I'm a little nervous, but also because I'm struggling and repeatedly failing to remember whatever it is I've forgotten. Another reason is because it's at least an hour or two after eight, which was when class was supposed to start. I can remember looking at the clock in the front foyer of Hope's Peak Academy as I stepped inside and noted that I needed to hurry up. Then my vision started to go blurry and... Well, I'm trying to remember.

            Only a few months ago I received a letter from the Academy itself: a prestigious place that  could only be entered by invitation alone, and only to students who excelled in their respective talent. The letter claimed that I had been selected randomly from a group of average students to attend the school. As was custom, every student had to have a title based on their skill set and reason for being invited, so mine would be Super High School Level Good Luck. I was a little scared, to say the least. Only a few years ago, Hope's Peak had started branching out from its one establishment in Japan, with the goal of building schools all over the world. Some claimed that it was just for the sake of making more money or gaining more fame, but that didn't matter to students like me. A chance to get accepted to a place like this was life changing. And now I was _late._

            The stiff breeze that was brushing the grass around me and ruffling my t-shirt died out, and with it the moment passed. I couldn't remember what I'd forgotten. I opened my eyes to a deep, clear blue sky, and sat up.

            I was in a small clearing of grass, only a few feet away from a tall and imposing chain-link fence, barbed wire racing across the top and bright yellow signs stuck onto the metal at random intervals. Squinting, I noticed that many of the signs had “Keep out!” written in bright, messy colors, or crude caricatures of students in school uniforms getting electrocuted. I didn't bother looking any closer – I could hear the electric hum from here, after all. I struggled to recall any place similar to this on the campus of the American Hope's Peak. What had happened? Had I been attacked? Robbed? Drugged? I tried to think, but nothing came to mind. I was supposed to be in school, for fuck's sake, not floundering about in the middle of the wilderness.

            Turning to look the other way, I was pleasantly surprised to see a small stone building in the near distance, replete with a thin metal chimney stack. It looked like some sort of storage house, or maybe a bathroom. Maybe I was still on campus after all – that would be a relief. My excitement was somewhat dulled by the ache in my muscles as I got up; I had to have been lying there for at least a few hours to be _this_ sore. But it didn't matter, as long as I made it to class.

            After a short walk I rounded the corner of the building to discover that it was indeed a bathroom: it looked like an outhouse, more specifically, with an entrance for both male and female and a water fountain in between. Looking past it, I found several more stone buildings nearby, nestled into the grass and foliage, and gradually leading up to a paved clearing a little ways ahead. I felt dismay rise in my chest at the realization that I had no idea where the hell I was. _Okay, calm down Flynt. Maybe it isn't Hope's Peak. But at least it's civilization._

            As I approached the hard black pavement, a stark contrast to the wild nature all around, I glanced at the four buildings that made up the clearing. One had full-length glass windows on the front side, and judging by the interior, was a cafeteria. Next to it was what appeared to be an indoor pool. I could see several cameras installed in various parts of the clearing, and inside the buildings as well. I couldn't immediately see inside the other two buildings, and wasn't paying much attention to them anyway, because I'd just realized that there were people nearby.

            On the other end of the tarmac, four kids about my age were standing and talking, expressions cool and almost untrustworthy. As I approached, one of them looked up from where he was kneeling and said, “Hey guys, look. He must be the sixteenth.”

            The girl next to him stopped mid-sentence to look up at me. “Oh! Heh, that's good. I was getting worried. Did you get lost?”

            I blinked, a little miffed. “Er, no. I just woke up in the middle of the grass over there... I can't remember how I got here. Are you guys students?”

            “Yep,” she affirmed, and pointed at the Hope's Peak logo on her purple hoodie. “And don't worry, the same thing happened to us. We're not really sure why, but we've already figured out that we're all from the same class, so we thought the sixteenth student might show up soon. I guess it's you.”

            She had hazel eyes and similarly colored, chin-length hair, save for one blonde streak down the left side of her face that lurked in front of her eyes, impeded by nothing but her black-rimmed glasses. Her black beanie served only to make her already-pale skin look even more colorless. Her eyes were wide; the kind that exuded innocence from every orifice. “My name is Pamela Riley, Super High School Level Poet. But, um, you can just call me Pam. What's yours?”

            “Title or name?” I asked, then laughed softly and offered both. Knowing that I was where I was supposed to be did wonders to calm me down.

            One of the other kids perked up – if it could be described that way. His only sign of interest was a slight, miniscule raise of his eyebrows, further made imperceptible by the fact that most of his face was hidden in a mop of dark, curly hair. “So you're the lucky student, huh? The one they picked randomly? Good for you.”

            “Heh, yeah,” I said, somewhat sheepishly, though they didn't seem to care too much.

            “Also a heads-up dude,” he added, “I'm transgender. You can use whatever pronouns you like, I don't really care, but just keep it in mind, y'know?”

            “Sure,” I said, a little put off by how blunt he was. Either way, I'd already mentally arranged his features as masculine, so I figured that would be my primary descriptor.

            He also wore glasses, obscuring his piercing green eyes, and had on a pair of pajama pants, of all things. To go with it (or rather, to not) was a blue half-sleeve shirt sporting the name of a college I'd never heard of. “I'm Ohanzee Bradley, Super High School Level Artist. Glad you finally showed up, bro.”

            “It's nice to have everyone here,” a third added, but didn't glance up from his DS as he said it.

            “Yeah, fucking great,” another student mumbled. He was sitting on the ground, slightly away from the others, and glowering at the pavement. “He's only made us wait for him a good fucking half hour.”

            “S-Sorry,” I said quickly. “I was sort of, you know, passed out.”

            “Whatever,” he muttered, still not looking at me. He had messy brown hair and a matching beard, and was wearing a torn brown jacket and equally torn jeans, accompanied by a long olive scarf that he twisted between his fingertips on occasion. Several seconds passed before he spoke again, and when he did it was a clipped, begrudging grumble. “Buck Williams, Recluse.”

            “It's nice to meet you,” I lied. He didn't respond.

            There was a gap of silence, wherein the final kid slowly looked up from his DS. He was wearing a white t-shirt, a black, unbuttoned shirt over it, and skin-tight black jeans. Running a hand through dirty-blonde hair, he grinned at me. “Jason Bickford. You can probably already guess my title from the SFX, heh.”

            I was too stunned by him using the phrase “SFX” out loud to respond, but he plowed on anyway: “Well, it's Super High School Level Pokemon Player. It's cool if you don't know how to play. I could teach you.”

            I smiled weakly. “We should probably figure out why we're here first.”

            “Good idea,” he said, and then turned his attention back to the game.

            “Um,” Pamela piped up. “Maybe you want to go meet the other students? They were all pretty close nearby, last I checked.”

            “That's a good idea,” I said. I still wasn't sure what exactly all of us were doing here, but at least I was with my class, where I belonged. We could figure out everything else soon. “It was nice meeting you guys.”

            “Yeah,” Ohanzee grinned. “See you around.”

            “Have fun,” Pamela said. The others didn't respond.

            Well, at least two of them were friendly. That's half. If at least half of the students here were sociable, then I figured I'd probably do pretty okay. Deciding that I'd go left to right from my current position, I headed towards the cafeteria.

            It was like any other school cafeteria inside. Microwaves, fridges, and a small side door leading off to a kitchen. Most of the space was taken up by lunch tables, and most of these were empty, save for two students sitting across from each other near the middle of the room. As I walked up, I noticed that one of them was talking – loud and fast.

            “It's just stupid, y'know? I promised my followers I'd tell them about everything that was happening here and now I can't even look at my feed. Who's ever heard of a school without internet? That's just dumb. This is dumb.”

            All of her attention was focused on an expensive-looking laptop in front of her, fingers drumming on the keys even though she wasn't actually typing anything. Her brown hair was pulled back by white headband with a bow on it, serving to increase the intensity in her brown eyes. She had a black shirt, with the teal Libra sign – you know, the Homestuck kind – and a white skirt and tennis shoes. The other girl looked up at me as I approached. “Oh hey, it's the last student.”

            The first raised her head and promptly grinned, as though her current computer troubles were a thing of the past. “Hey, nice to meet'ya. Name's Dani Mannarino, Super High School Level Blogger. You got any idea what's going on here?”

            “I'm Flynt Coal, title's Good Luck, and no idea at all,” I said, shaking the hand she offered. “Did you say the internet's out?”

            She huffed. “It's worse than that. There isn't _any_ internet. No Wi-Fi hotspots, nothing. I came in here because I thought it might just be limited to the cafeteria, but there's absolutely nothing. I can't believe they would invite a student who specializes in blogging and then not provide her with any way of doing it!”

            “ _I_ think it's probably one of those one-week things,” the other girl put in. “You know, how some schools will limit your activities until you've been there for a certain amount of time. Something like that.”

            “Good thinking,” I said.

            She had shoulder-length brown hair, matching eyes, and a thin pair of glasses. Her color scheme seemed to be focused on blue – blue jeans, blue Vans, and a blue sports jacket. The only exception was a black undershirt and the thick, dark green strap of a quiver slung over her shoulder. She let her eyes flick up to me, seemingly bored. “Haley Higgins. Archer, in case you couldn't already tell.”

            I grinned at her. “Nope, wasn't obvious at all.”

            She rolled her eyes, but I'd earned a smile, so I was satisfied. “Well, good luck with the internet. I'm going to go talk with the others.”

            The next building in line was an indoor pool. The facility seemed quite nice to me, with an excess amount of fresh towels on overflowing shelves, a diving board, a jacuzzi, and changing rooms, among other things. One girl was sitting with her shoes at her side, feet in the water. She looked up as I approached, brown eyes flashing almost red, and messy brown hair bobbing about her face. She wore glasses, a black beanie hat with cat ears on it, a black jacket and a dark gray t-shirt. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity.

            “Hi,” I said. “Sixteenth student, name's Flynt.” I figured by now people already knew the drill.

            She raised an eyebrow. “Gam Ponytore, Super High School Level Comedian.”

            “Ponytore?” I echoed. “Is that French?”

            “No,” she snapped. “It's _fake._ You know, a made-up name? No one's _actually_ named Ponytore.”

            I put my hands up in defense, trying to act casual. “Alright, alright, just checking! What's your real name then?”

            “Hmm,” she pressed a finger to her lips, expression mocking. “Let me think... Last time I checked, it was... None of your business!”

            “Fine then,” I grumbled. “Gam it is.”

            “Yeesh,” she laughed, aggression suddenly gone. “Don't take it so hard. I'm only joking with you, okay? Don't be so sensitive.”

            I glanced away, masking my annoyance, only to have my eyes drawn up again by sudden movement nearby. Another student was emerging from one of the changing rooms, expression placid. She was wearing bright orange skinny jeans, tennis shoes, and a sports jacket from that one swimming anime. _Free!_ , I think it's called. Her hair was short and a dark, dusty blonde. She immediately walked up when she saw me.

            “I'm assuming you're the sixteenth student, right? Don't bother giving me a name or anything, I'll forget it. I'm Jae Brown, Super High School Level Roleplayer. I'm a huge fan of porn so if you see me reading that shit don't think it's like, private time or something. It's cool. I can give you links if you want. I spend most of my time roleplaying so I don't do much of the actual frickle-frackling, per se, but that's not because I can't get any ass. I could totally pick up anyone I wanted to. I could probably get you clawing at my pants if I felt like it, actually, but don't freak out or anything because I'm not going to try doing that. Yet. Hey, speaking of sex, I'm genderfluid, so just keep that in mind. You'll never know what the fuck I am! In fact, it's pretty likely that nothing but confetti will come out of my pants, so you just watch out. Uh, I think that's all the preliminaries... Anything you want to say?”

            “Um,” I started, but didn't continue because I couldn't think of anything that would constitute as a response.

            “Well aren't you the talker,” she – er, he? – grinned. “Calm down, dude. I'm a totally casual person, I promise. Talk later, okay?”

            “Okay,” I managed.

            “Oh, by the way,” _they_ said, twisting to the side to eye me, “you'll probably meet my brother soon. Enoch. He can be a bit of a handful, so this is me apologizing for that ahead of time.”

            S/he walked away before I could respond, so I looked to Gam for help. She shrugged. “Not my fucking problem. I'd say everyone in this school is batshit insane. The upshot is that we'll all probably get along famously. The downside is that we're batshit insane.”

            “Good point,” I grumbled. I think I liked her. “See you around.”

            “Whatever you say.”

            Outside the next building was a boy, a plaid blue snow bomber hat with two pins on its side pulled over a mane of black hair. There was a tired expression in his brown eyes, which made the bandage on the right side of his face all the more questionable. He had on a muscle shirt with the number 42 on it in thick blue letters, a necklace with a ring as the pendant only barely visible against the fabric; he had one hand – replete with fingerless gloves – pressed against the ring. His free arm was wrapped with bandages, fist shoved into the pocket of his ripped, chain-drenched black jeans. He blinked slowly as I approached.

            “Hi, I'm Flynt Coal. My title is-”

            “Good Luck, I know,” he said. “I already crunched the numbers, and since no one else had the title, I knew that our last student had to have been the lucky one. I'm Neil Davis, Super High School Level Rugby Player.”

            That's ... unique. Kind of cool, though. “Nice. I'm more of a parkour person myself.”

            “Oh no, I totally get that,” he said, seeming to brighten slightly. “I love parkour. It's just endless movement and guts; nothing to stop you from failing, but nothing to stop you from succeeding either. It's great.”

            “But you're known for being good at rugby...?”

            He shrugged. “Once you know one sport, you can learn all of them, really. It's just a matter of rearranging the rules and knowing where to put your feet.”

            I'd never really looked at it that way, but I supposed he had a point. “Well, I'll talk to you later.”

            I was surprised to find that the next building was an information center, of all things. The building was small, the main focus being a counter just in front of me with “Help Desk” written above it in bold lettering. The only other thing inside was an empty postcard rack, and three people, two of whom were talking. I approached the one that wasn't.

            He was standing next to the postcard rack, thin and strangely effeminate, with a pair of glasses perched on his nose – a stark contrast to the ring in the left side of his lower lip. His hair was black and chin-length, not nearly long enough to hide the oversized gauges in his ears. The only remarkable features of his outfit were a jacket that was far too big for him and the thin, trailing line of a headphone cord going from his pocket to one of his ears.

            “Hi,” I said. “I'm Flynt Coal, Super High School Level Good Luck.”

            He regarded me with eyes dark enough to be black, and I avoided the temptation of shifting nervously. “Max Barrett,” he murmured.

            We were both quiet for a moment, but I forced myself to speak when he didn't continue. “Er, what's your title?”

            The eyes narrowed. “Why do you care?”

            “I'm just trying to get to know everyone,” I said.

            “Hmm,” he grunted, and looked away. As though to prove a point, he retrieved his other ear bud from his pocket and put it in. Annoyed, but also intimidated, I decided I'd better go talk with the others before I got too involved in trying to get this guy to open his mouth. I'd barely made it a few inches, however, before another face was right in front of mine.

            I wheeled in surprise; while I'd been talking to Max, the other two in the room must have taken notice, because now a short and strangely imposing girl was standing in front of me, eyebrow raised intently. She had thick (very thick), dark (very dark), curly (so very, very curly) brown hair and eyes of the exact same hue – the perfect match of colors was somewhat eerie. She was wearing a light purple, button-up shirt with a fold-over collar, on the inset of which hung five different necklaces; I didn't look too closely, but I saw a red diamond, a steel dragon, and what looked like some Egyptian symbols, among other things. On top of this she was wearing a thick black overcoat, the tails of which trailed behind her like a cape, just reaching below the knees of her dark purple skinny jeans. Her black boots were adorned with a complex myriad of ties and buttons.

            “Hi,” she said. “You're the last student, right? It's good that you've shown up; now things can get properly started.”

            “Um, yeah, I guess,” I said. “I'm Flynt Co-”

            “I heard,” she nodded in Max's direction, who was still making it clear that he wasn't going to get involved. “I'm Olivia Fishwick, Super High School Level Writer. Nice to meet you. This is-”         

            “I can introduce myself, you know,” the boy she'd been talking with cut her off, raising one critical eyebrow.

            “Sorry,” she muttered.

            He had spiked black hair – obviously dyed, as I could see that his eyebrows were a dark blonde – and was wearing several layers; a dark gray, long sleeve shirt, an unzipped black vest, and a red trench coat with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His jeans were dark black and his shoes light blue; the same color as his eyes. On one of his wrists was a shiny, expensive-looking watch. “I'm Enoch Andersen, Super High School Level Gaming Addict.”

            “That's cool,” I said. “I'm pretty big on video games too.”

            He laughed almost mockingly. “No way you're as big on them as me. I've got hundreds of games. Tons of consoles.” He pulled a phone out of one of his trench coat's pockets and started fiddling with it. “Want to see pictures of my shelves?”

            “I'm good,” I said.

            “No you're not. Not until you see my shelves. Look.” He held the phone up to my face and slowly scrolled through three different pictures of several various compact shelving units, all piled to the nines with a multitude video games. Olivia was looking away, expression feigning annoyance – I got the idea that she'd had to go through this routine as well.

            “Nice,” I said.

            He put his phone away. “Thanks. Oh, and it was nice meeting you or whatever. Have you met my sister yet?”

            I mentally went through the list of everyone I'd encountered so far. “You mean Jae?”

            “Yeah, that's it,” he said. “Her full name's Jessica, but don't call her that.”

            “Why not?”

            “I dunno. Maybe she'll kill you. Or force you into some kind of creepy sex game? She's kind of unpredictable like that, so I'll apologize ahead of time.”

            I was beginning to notice a trend between them. “No, I mean why doesn't she use her real name?”

            “It's not gender neutral,” Olivia cut in. “She told you she's genderfluid, didn't she?”

            “But you're using female pronouns,” I noticed.

            Enoch shrugged. “She wasn't always genderfluid. But she _was_ always my sister, so as far as I'm concerned she's a girl.”

            “What about you?” I asked Olivia. She blinked, looking taken aback, though the change in expression was brief and small.

            “Not sure. That's just what I was going with, I guess. I didn't really even think about it, to be honest.”

            I raised an eyebrow. “That's weird.”

            “I guess,” she said, seemingly indifferent. “But I'm not about to raise hell over it. It's just pronouns, in my opinion.”

            “Right,” I said. “Well, I'll talk with you guys later.”

            “Okay,” Enoch said.

            The moment I stepped outside, I was bombarded by yet another face – but this time it was familiar.

            Ryan Kinkaid, old friend and confidant, stood in front of me, wearing his usual all-black ensemble: a simple hoodie, t-shirt, and jeans. The only spot of color on his outfit was his Oujia board-themed belt, another familiar sight. He ran a hand through his dark brown hair when he saw me, looking relieved. “Shit, Flynt. One of the other students mentioned you and I almost lost it! What the hell are you doing here?”

            I spluttered, shocked. “Right back at you! _Asshole!_ You get into Hope's Peak and don't even tell me?”

            He flung his hands up. “You did the _exact same thing!_ ”

            I looked down, unable to stop myself from frowning. “You're right. Things just... got out of hand. Everything started moving so fast once I got the application letter. It's all a blur... I couldn't even tell you specific events if I wanted to.”

            Ryan sighed, chest heaving in one large output of air. “Nah, I get it. Same problem here. But a pretty fuckin' cool problem, if you ask me. They invited me in as Super High School Level Mortician, can you believe it? The dream job is coming true.”

            “Nice,” I said. “I actually... Well, I'm the lucky student. I got randomly selected.”

            His eyes widened. “Oh yeah, I heard about that. _Shit,_ those are some odds we beat.”

            “No kidding.” I grinned. Having Ryan around was going to make this a _lot_ easier. Just his presence already had me calm. “So what's happened? What did I miss?”

            “Nothing really,” he muttered, “save for the shocking discovery that everyone in this school has the IQ of a peanut, and that probably includes the teachers and staff, considering this bullshit situation we're in now. 'Super High School Level' my ass.”

            “It's probably not _that_ bad,” I said. “We just haven't gotten used to it.”

            “Well I'm not betting any money on the situation improving,” he sighed, then seemed to brighten. “Well hey, you haven't met everyone yet, have you? I'll come with.”

            “Sure,” I said. Some company would be nice.

            The final building in the main clearing turned out to be a gift shop of some sort, though most of the shelves were barren and dusty, and what little merchandise remained was damaged and scattered across the floor. The lights were out, and the switch wasn't working, but the sunlight from outside was enough to keep the area lit. There were two people inside, and my eyebrows shot up at the first, because she was in an almost impeccable Aradia cosplay.

            She smiled and waved as I approached. There were only two flaws to her cosplay: her hair and her lack of makeup. I was getting the idea, however, that she'd foregone both of these things on purpose rather than by some lack of skill or foresight. Her face was small, round, and pale, and her hair was dark black and arrow-straight. Her bangs hugged her brown eyes, suspended in the air by the rectangular frames of her glasses. When she smiled, it seemed strangely elegant. “Hello Ryan. Who's this?”

            “My friend Flynt,” he said. “Sixteenth student.”

            She waved again. “Nice to meet you! I'm Calise Jin, Super High School Level Cosplayer. Though you probably already guessed that, eheh.”

            “Impressive,” I said, nodding.

            She blushed slightly. “Thanks. I really wish I hadn't, though. I thought, since it was the first day of class, I should show off my talent or something? But now I guess we're not even at the school? Ugh, I don't know anymore.”

            “It's no big deal,” I said. Confusion didn't suit her, and I felt oddly compelled to rid her of it. “I think we're all a little out of our depth here.”

            “Yeah, I guess you're right,” she smiled again.

            The other girl in the room somehow managed, just by appearance alone, to be far more eccentric than the cosplayer. Her shirt was several sizes too big and plain white, save for a large pink strawberry in the middle, and fell well over the hips of her pajama pants, which were covered in little caricatures of cats. Draped over one shoulder was a blue blanket, graced with the huge print of a cat's face dominating its surface. Around one of her thin, skeletal wrists, hanging on for dear life, was an analog watch, and the hand connected to it was slung over her other shoulder, holding a closed, dark green umbrella. When she turned to face us, wild blonde hair bobbing, I was surprised to see that her face was dominated by a pair of reflective black goggles, hiding her eyes from view.

            “Greetings Ryan,” she said, “and salutations, newcomer! I am Gigi Nobbs, Super High School Level Cat Expert. It is my utmost pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

            “Hi,” I said, taken aback. Ryan pointedly wasn't saying anything. “I'm Flynt Coal.”

            “Flynt! Like rock on rock. Coal! Like what the flint sets on fire, so that it may burn away. Very clever.”

            I shrugged. “My parents had a sense of humor, I guess.”

            She seemed to be dead serious, however, and leaned in. “You know the firepit outside uses the exact same method. Flint on flint to burn the coal. Symbolic? Maybe. But more than likely it's just logical.”

            “Wait, there's a firepit?” I was too distracted by the new discovery to comment on how ridiculous she was acting.

            She looked offended, but it was hard to tell because of the goggles. “You dummy! It's right in the middle of the clearing. Although I guess it doesn't draw much attention to itself when it isn't on fire.”

            “I guess I'll check that out then,” I said, then looked to the side in thought. “...Because that makes 16. Yep, I've met everyone.”

            “Congratulations!” she said, throwing up her hands. “I'd give you a medal, but that sort of thing only happens in video games.”

            “Um,” I said.

            “Right that's our cue to leave,” Ryan muttered. “Come on.”

            Once we were outside, he turned to me, grimacing. “See, I told you. Everyone here is either fucking brain dead or too much of an idiot to do anything intelligent. We're fucking screwed.”

            “They're not that bad,” I said. “I think some of them could be interesting.”

            He was about to respond, but there was a sudden, ear-splitting burst of static from above that made both of us jump. I hadn't noticed it until now, but there were several loudspeakers hoisted above the clearing. The speakers produced a few residual crackling noises until all that remained was background noise. Then a voice spoke, loud and scratchy.

            “Eh... Testing, testing! This is your headmaster speaking.” The voice cleared its throat. “Um, my English is a bit rusty. Sorry. Anyway, all students should gather at the firepit in the clearing for an important announcement! Thanks!”

            The loudspeakers hummed briefly, and then clicked off. Ryan and I exchanged a glance. “Some headmaster,” he said. I nodded.

            We were already in the clearing, so we simply walked towards the center, where a wrought iron firepit was set into the ground. It was fairly large and filled with nothing but dust and a few rocks – remembering what Gigi had said, it occurred to me that they must be flint. Next to it was a huge stack of firewood and several shapeless lumps of coal. We stood nearby as the other students appeared; it didn't take too long, as everyone was already nearby. Within a minute or two we had a full group of sixteen.

            In that moment, and not a second later, a shape emerged from the firepit, making everyone jump, as nothing at all had been there earlier. It took a few steps forward and raised its head – it was a black and white teddy bear with one blood red, lightning-bolt eye and a macabre grin.

            It was quickly apparent that no one knew how to react, but the teddy bear didn't give us much time to do so anyway. It raised one hand and said, “Hi! It's so good that everyone, eh, showed up. My name is Monobear. I am your headmaster.”

            “What?” Haley said. “But you're a bear... How is this even possible?”

            Several students murmured agreement, and in response Monobear sighed. “Ugh, this would be so much easier if you all still had your memories. But, eh, I suppose I have no one to blame for that but myself! Upupupupu!”

            Dani's eyes were narrowed. “What the hell? Who do you think you are? Knock this shit off!”

            “Blah blah, same old same old,” the bear grumbled. “Let's cut the middle ground – it's not like any of it matters that much – and get straight to the point! You're not at Hope's Peak anymore, you're on a camping trip. A Camping Trip of Mutual Killing!”

            “What the fuck?” Ryan spluttered.

            “Allow me to explain,” he continued as though no one had spoken. “You're all trapped on this camping trip for the rest of your lives! The only way to get out is to kill someone – and do it without getting caught! If that's not your, eh, cup of tea, then you can just live here forever. Not my problem. But that would be pretty damn boring, don't you think?”

            “Kill?” Buck echoed. He looked enraged – or maybe afraid.

            “Yeah. You know what that is, don't you? But I've only given this speech two times already, so I don't feel like doing it again, okay? If you have any questions, just look at your Electronic Student ID Cards. They contain student profiles, a map, and a list of the camping trip rules. Each of you should have one on your person!”

            I checked – Monobear wasn't lying. There was a small, phone-like device, about the size of an old-school Game Boy, in my back jeans pocket. Turning it on opened up a small screen that listed my name and title. Looking around, I could see that most of the other students had made similar discoveries. Calise looked up from hers, expression one of shock. “Y-You're joking right?”

            Monobear leaned forward. “Um, of course not! There would be nothing fun about that, y'know? A bear like me has to have some fun.”

            “This is illegal, isn't it?” Jason said, tone critical. “You're going to get in serious trouble for this. Kidnapping us...”

            “Hmm...” he pressed a paw to his mouth, pretending to be thinking. “As the old saying goes...” he flung his arms up, eyes bright with rage. “I'm above the law! So shut up and follow the rules – or else!”

            Before anyone could say anything else, he turned, heading back towards the fireplace. “Oh – I've already mentioned it, but I wiped a bunch of your memories. Ha, as if that's even a _surprise_ anymore. I just thought that's information that you all might want to know!”

            Without another word, he turned and slipped back into the fireplace, disappearing as though in a puff of smoke. As though he had never existed in the first place – just ash blown away by the breeze. If only.

            “Holy shit,” Enoch said.

            “But it's a joke, isn't it?” Jae said, standing next to him. “It has to be.”

            “I don't think it is,” Gigi said, expression somehow solemn despite the fact that we couldn't see her eyes. “Why all the pomp and bravado if it wasn't going to amount to anything?”

            Olivia shook her ID card in the air as a form of agreement. “And these are definitely real, if that's any indication of his seriousness.”

            “What was he, anyway?” Max asked. But no one could answer him, of course – it was really more a thought than a question.

            After a moment of silence, Gam spoke up. “Either way, this is stupid. There's no way he can actually keep all 16 of us contained at some abandoned campsite. I suggest we investigate, and if we haven't broken out by then, meet up in the morning.”

            “That's a good idea,” Neil said.

            Ohanzee nodded. “We can split up into groups and cover a bunch of ground. This place isn't that big, right?”

            “That's what we'll do then,” Olivia said. “I'll talk with you all later.” She walked away before anyone could stop her – or join her.

            Ryan nudged me. “We can go off together, right? We'll get out of here in no time. That bear thing is full of shit.”

            “Yeah, good idea,” I said.

            But for once, Ryan was being the positive one. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I knew that this wasn't going to be as easy as he was suggesting. I knew that we had been sucked into something – something greater than all of us, beyond all of us; something that would consume us if we couldn't stop it. Somehow I knew that we were caught up in something massive, inevitable, ancient – and at the center of it we were trapped, the eye of the storm, powerless.

            And so began the rekindling. 


	2. 1.1 "Eggs and Bakey"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Free time events, and the plot of the first two days. Please enjoy.

CHAPTER 1: THE FLAME

(Ab)normal Days Part 1

            After a few hours of investigation, Ryan and I agreed that it was time to call it quits. We hadn't found much beyond what I already knew, and it was apparent that we were no closer to escaping, but at the very least I had a few things to share at the meeting in the morning. The most relevant discovery, at least currently, was that of our rooms.

            Past the main clearing and the four buildings therein, we discovered a long, wide path that was lined with several small wooden houses, like cottages. Each door was marked with a metal name plate for each student, making 16 in all. It didn't take long to figure out that our ID cards had a sensor on them that unlocked the door, much like at a hotel. Despite the unpleasant situation we were in, by the time the sun was setting I was more than happy to retreat to mine. At least I could sleep comfortably, even though I'd much rather spend my time trying to get out.

            As I went inside the dimly-lit room, I was dismayed to discover that there was no light switch. Apparently we didn't have any electricity at all, which probably meant that the microwaves and fridges in the cafeteria would be useless. But, then again, we were surrounded by an electric fence – did we not have power elsewhere because it was being used for the fence? Or was that just a coincidence? Furthermore, did this mean that we had no good food to eat? That could be a serious problem. After fumbling around in the darkness for a few moments, I found a small, battery-powered lantern and flicked it on.

            The room was small, cool, and probably cleaned recently. There was a bed in the corner, a small table in the center of the room where my lantern had been resting, a desk with a huge mirror, and a dresser. Checking the drawers revealed that all of my belongings had already been moved in here for me – and probably while I was passed out, no less. A little irked, I wandered back over towards the table, only to catch my own reflection in the mirror, eclipsed by the pale blue glow of the lantern.

            My eyes were soft, sea blue, and people sometimes described them as being “full of light”. I supposed they were just the same now, albeit more than a little tired-looking. I'd was wearing my gray school t-shirt, with the logo in black, just barely visible beneath the hem of my unzipped jacket. My jeans were gray and my sneakers black and white. The only remarkable thing about my entire appearance, in fact, was a falling star pendant that hung from my neck around a silver chain; a symbol of good luck. My hair was a messy, reddish brown tangle clumped around the top of my head. Well, at least I could count on my appearance staying the same. Or... Wait...

            A small lock of my hair was pointing up almost directly in the air, curving slightly and bobbing above my head. I knew what these were. The Japanese term was an ahoge – but more accurately it was just a really bad case of bed head. I tried to flatten it, only to discover that it was soaked through with hair gel. What the fuck? Who did this? Without a brush there wasn't much I could do, and I'd neglected to pack one because it's not like I ever had much luck with my hair anyway. Both annoyed and disturbed, I walked over to the bed and climbed in so I wouldn't have to look at it anymore. I needed to go to sleep anyway.

            I lay there for a few minutes, but, despite being more exhausted than I’d been in a long time, I was still wide awake – no surprise there. Figuring I might as well get something done while I was in this state, I grabbed my ID card from where I left it on the table and turned it on. I was greeted with a glowing blue screen that listed my name and title. I pressed a button to proceed it forward: I now had the options of Student Profiles, Campground Map, and School Rules. I inspected the first two for a little while, but my main focus was the rules, and I turned to them before long. They were as follows:

  1. All students are to live an indefinite communal lifestyle within the campgrounds.
  2. The hours between 10 PM and 7 AM are known as Night Time. Access to certain areas will be restricted during this period.
  3. The firepit is available for use during all hours of both Day and Night Time. Fire making supplies will be replenished at the beginning of each day, so feel free to keep a fire going.
  4. You may investigate the school as much as you wish. There will be no limitations placed on your actions.
  5. Damage to school property, locked doors, surveillance cameras, and your headmaster is not allowed and will be met with punishment.
  6. A culprit who kills a fellow student will be allowed to leave, but only if they do so without being caught.
  7. Additional rules may be added at any time.



            I narrowed my eyes in thought as I finished reading them. Not only were the rules blunt and unhelpful, but they also seemed to be ingratiatingly tailored to suit Monobear's needs. He could add to them at any time, after all, and had given himself permission to discipline us. I turned off the card and tossed it back onto the table, concerned and tired from glaring at the screen. Not wanting to think about it any longer, I closed my eyes and let myself drift into an uneasy sleep.

~ ~ ~ ~

            The next morning, I went out into the clearing to find Ryan and Haley hovering over Gam while she prodded at the firepit with a stick, coaxing the beginning embers within a pile of coal and wood chips to life. I came up in silence and watched as she brought it up to a sufficient blaze within the span of a few minutes. Gam looked up at Ryan once she was finished. “See? I told you I could do more than just shitty one-liners.”

            He shrugged, feigning disinterest. “I guess I've seen worse.”

            “I'm guessing you guys read the rules too?” I asked.

            “Yeah,” Haley said, turning to me. “We thought we'd take the initiative and get a fire started. We don't have any electricity, and I was really cold last night. It'll be nice to have it around.”

            “People can visit it to get warm if they wake up in the middle of the night,” Gam added. “Good idea, right?”

            I frowned. “Well, sure. But won't we need someone to stay up all night to keep it lit?”

            Haley glanced at the others. “We thought about that. But... considering our situation, it probably wouldn't be a very good idea. And anyway, it's unfair to the person.”

            “If we build it up big enough before Night Time, it should burn until the morning,” Gam said.

            “Huh, good thinking,” I nodded. “Um, did you said you were cold? I wasn't. But I was also really tired... maybe I was just too exhausted to notice. I mean, I went to bed early, and I slept hard.”

            Ryan looked up. “Yeah, I was gonna ask what took you so long. Did you decide to sleep through the morning announcement?”

            “What announcement?” I blinked.

            “Monodick made it,” he said. “He made one last night, too. It's basically just telling us when Night Time starts and ends.”

            I stared, stunned. I must have been awfully tired to have slept through that creature's garish voice. “What time is it, anyway?”

            Gam threw her hands up. “Does it _look_ like any of us have a watch? Go ask someone who does.”

            “Oh, _alright_ ,” I said, grinning. I was gradually beginning to get a grasp on her sense of humor. Figuring the others would be in the cafeteria, I headed in its direction.

            As I walked inside, eyes still adjusting to the lighting, I took a seat nearby some of the other students. This did seem to be the place where everyone was frequenting, at least this morning. There was loose discussion going on, but most of the current noises were eating ones. Suddenly the slender face of Gigi appeared in front of mine.

            “Wakey-wakey, Super High School Level eggs and bakey!” she announced, then slammed a plate down in front of me with a flourish: eggs and bacon, just as she reported. “Now, I'm no professional, but I think they turned out alright.”

            “But you just said they're Super High School Level...” I murmured.

            She shrugged. “It seemed appropriate.”

            “Thanks,” I said. I brought a forkful up to my mouth – they were pretty good. “Hey, how did you make these? Don't we not have electricity?”

            She nodded. “Completely correct. We do, however, have portable gas stoves. You know, the kind people use on camping trips.”

            “Fitting,” I muttered.

            “Quite,” she said.

            “What time is it, by the way?”

            She brought her hand up, motions exaggerated, to eye her watch. “Just past eight.”

            After Gam and the others had joined us, and everyone had eaten, Ryan stood up on one of the tables. “Hey, is everyone listening? We still haven't reported on shit from yesterday. Flynt and I will go first.”

            He looked to me, so I stood up to continue. “Uh, we went out and investigated the electric fence. It goes around the whole property, and as far as we could tell, it's pretty impenetrable. All of the chain link is covered in barbed wire, and I'd say it's about 30 feet tall.”

            “Shit sounds like a bee's nest, too,” Ryan growled. “'Would probably fry you within a few seconds. And beneath it is concrete.” He paused for a moment, grimacing, then continued: “I suggested to Flynt that we dig underneath, but the moment I did, Monodick showed up. Told us we'd just hit cement. And also it's against the rules, since damaging the fence would be damaging school property.”

            “We did find a few gates in the fence though,” I picked up, “but all of them were securely locked. It looks like they lead to more areas in the campground.”

            “I wonder why they're blocked off,” Enoch said.

            “Er, I was wondering that too, actually,” Pamela piped up. “I asked Monobear, and he said that they're rewards. I don't know what he means by that.”

            “Who knows what he means by any of this shit?” Gam grumbled. “It's all fucking stupid.”

            Everyone was quiet for a moment, dulled by her cynicism, until Dani stood up. “Eh, I'll report next. Buck, Haley, and I took a look at our cabins. They've all got name tags, and they're all basically the same. Bed, dresser, desk, table, lantern. We were wondering about bathrooms and showers, and at that point Monobear showed up. Convenient, right? He said that we'll have to use the external outhouses for bathrooms, and that there's a bunch of them around.”

            “What about showers?” Jae asked.

            Haley grimaced in response. “He said there were external showers, too. We checked it out, and there are. There's about one to every two bathrooms.”

            “Everything's separated by male and female,” Buck added, albeit begrudgingly. “And in case you were wondering, the only good thing about the entire day was that I managed to find some decent fucking hiding places. Which means I get to stay away from you assholes.”

            “Er. Jae, Enoch, and I went looking for escape routes,” Jason said quickly. “We didn't really find anything.”

            “Yeah, real riveting explanation of events,” Jae muttered. “It was a bit more complicated than that. Unlike we thought yesterday, this place is under a _way_ tight lock and key. We couldn't even figure out where we _are_ , exactly. We're pretty sure that it's not Hope's Peak, though. Or even anywhere near it.”

            “There's just no way to tell,” Enoch added. “In the gift shop, all the labels and names have been taken off of signs and stuff. I think Monobear's trying to hide it from us.”

            “No shit,” Gam grunted. “In case you hadn't noticed, he's kinda hiding a lot of things right now. Anyway, Ohanzee, Pamela, Neil, Calise, and I all split up to investigate these buildings and whatnot. Unfortunately, it's all pretty straight forward.”

            “The gift shop really got ransacked,” Calise frowned. “It looks like some sort of fight happened there.”

            “And that information center's in a similar state,” Ohanzee said. “Y'know, I think it was cleared out on purpose.”

            Neil glanced up, eyes bright. “The good news is that the pool looks real nice. Clean, and with a lot of facilities available. There's even a sauna and jacuzzi.”

            “I thought the cafeteria was really nice too, though I didn't do a full search,” Pamela said.

            “Why not?” I asked.

            “Because that was my jurisdiction,” Gigi said, “and I've found out quite a lot. For cooking, we have small gas stoves. Our perishable food is in coolers, which appears to be replenished every night, and the rest of our food is stored in pantries. It's quite a complete spread, in my opinion!”

            “Good to know,” Ryan said, then glanced around. “I guess that's everything.”

            “Actually, I have something to say too.”

            I glanced up to see that Max had risen to his feet, his dark eyes somehow even darker than normal. “I don't think Monobear is lying,” he said.

            I swallowed. “About what?”

            His raven gaze swept over all of us in turn. “About having stolen our memories. I think he really did it. That's all.” Without another word, he sat down again.

            “What the fuck, dude,” Ryan snapped. “You got any evidence? Anything to back that up?”

            “It's good that he doesn't, actually,” another voice added, “because I was just about to make a similar claim.” It was Olivia, expression placid. “I think someone is in control of Monobear.”

            “ _What?_ ” Ryan said.

            “Whaddya mean by that?” Ohanzee asked.

            “I think there is a person – a mastermind – who is behind this entire scheme. And they,” she said, “are the reason that we are here.”

            Ryan narrowed his eyes. “Sure, you can just crackpot-theorize away. We're gonna focus on the actual evidence though.”

            “But it makes sense, doesn't it?” she said. “Or are you suggesting that a teddy bear can move and talk and control us on its own?”

            “Just shut up!” he snapped. “Shut it! You're full of shit, okay?”

            “Wait,” yet another voice called out. “You mean this is actually something that you bastards are questioning?”

            We all spun around, startled to see Monobear himself standing in front of the cafeteria door, eyes ablaze in the dim lighting. He padded forward, arms behind his back. “ _Of course_ I'm being controlled by someone! What would be the point of it all if I wasn't? There has to be a final boss! A main antagonist! A bunch of you are Homestuck fans, right? So shouldn't I say the big bad? Or, heh, the 8ig 8ad? Upupu, I 8et the writer's getting a 8ig laugh out of this one. And all at you 8astards' expense!”

            “H-Huh?” Pam choked out. “You mean there's really someone out there sick enough to do this?”

            “Well o8viously!” he said. “Me! Do ya got a pro8lem with that????????”

            “But that's horrible,” Calise breathed. “You're horrible.”

            “You're only just realizing that?” he lowered his head, lightning red eye narrowed in finality. “Pound it into your skulls while you still can: you're stuck here forever. And the only way to get out is to kill someone. So don't worry yourself with how _terrible_ of a person I am. Focus on what you're going to do about it. Kill or be killed. Destroy or be destroyed. Or, I dunno, just stay here to rot. It doesn't matter to me! Gahahahahaha!”

~ ~ ~ ~

            After Monobear left, breakfast was officially considered to be over. We all began to go our separate ways, off to explore the campsite, rest, or just to relax. Most everyone was stand-offish and suspicious after his speech, so the general consensus was to stay well alone. I found myself sitting in my room, frowning at my lap. I really had nothing to do, so I figured it would be best if I tried to go and socialize with some of the others. I got up and wandered out into the open, looking around for a student that I could talk with.

            At length I found Dani in the cafeteria, fingertips drumming on the keyboard of her computer, just as they had been when we first met. As I approached, she looked up, frowning in irritation. “I've gotta be able to get some internet. There's gotta be a signal _somewhere_ on this campsite. Come look with me.”

            “Sure,” I said.

            As I'd expected, our search was fruitless, but at least we got to hang out for a little while. In the end we found ourselves back in the cafeteria, sitting in front of her open and almost completely useless laptop. At the very least, I couldn't help but feel that we'd gotten a little closer.

            The downside was that we were just sort of... sitting here now. She was staring out the windows to the firepit outside, looking tired and even bored. I tried to think of something to say, but nothing came to mind. The arches of her face were elegantly carved in the pale, midday light from outside, betraying the bags of exhaustion beneath her eyes. _I must be so uninteresting to her,_ I thought in a fit of dismay.

            “Hey,” she said suddenly. “You don't think any of us will actually kill anyone, do you?”

            “Wh-What?” I stammered back. “No, of course not. I think everyone here seems... Well, smart enough to not do that.”

            She narrowed her eyes. “But is that really the smart decision? Nothing's ever gonna get done if all we do is just sit here and be scared...”

            “Are you... Planning on killing someone?”

            “What? _What?_ Where the hell did you get that idea? Are you fucking stupid? What the fuck is your problem? Why the fuck would I...” She abruptly stopped, yanked off her hairband, and ran her hand over the top of her hair – as if she were trying to smooth it, even though there was nothing wrong in the first place. Then she put the hairband on again and took a deep breath. “No one's going to die. That's stupid. Stop saying that people will die.”

            “I'm not,” I murmured.

            “Yes you are. You're suggesting it.”

            I paused for a moment, searching her face. “Well, that's not what I meant. Maybe we should talk about something else.”

            Dani seemed to calm down, because her eyes wandered over to mine and her expression was similar to that of a puppy's after it's been yelled at. She ran her tongue across her teeth and said, “What about that Buck kid? What do you think of him?”

            “Do you mean if I think he'll kill somebody?”

            “No,” she snapped. “I thought we weren't talking about that anymore!”

            “S-Sorry,” I said, then breathed out, thinking. “Um... Well, he's awfully confrontational.”

            She shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. I think he's nice though. Or he might be. I've talked to him a couple times.”

            “Maybe you could be his friend,” I suggested. Perhaps he would cool down if he had someone to hang out with.

            She shrugged again, as though trying to get something off her shoulders. “I dunno. I guess. It's just... there's something about him. It feels like...” She was choosing her next words carefully. “Like I've known him for forever.”

            “That's...” I was going to say something more, but there was nothing I could think of.

            “Whatever,” she said, then laughed. “I think it's just the mood of this place. It's getting to me, heheh. Thanks for the chat, Flynt.”

            “Um, yeah,” I said. Her attitude change was blunt and abrupt, and made it seem like she was dismissing me. Now I was even less sure about what was going on with Dani, but at least I'd gotten to talk with her for a little while. She was definitely something else.

            Later on, as the day was drifting into afternoon, I stumbled across Enoch outside of the gift shop. “Hey, you know that one game?” he said when he saw me. “Where you randomly go up to people and punch them in the face? Yeah, we should play that.”

            I expressed the desire to _not_ do something so ridiculous and dangerous, so in the end we just hung out for a little while. Nothing special happened, but still I felt like we got a little closer. We were sitting on the ground in front of the pathway to the cabins, Enoch with his hands over his knees and I with my legs crossed, watching the fire burn in the middle of the clearing. Again, I found myself in a situation where I wasn’t sure what to say.

            “Quick question,” he said abruptly. “Do you got a phone?”

            “Yeah, but I left it at home,” I said.

            He frowned slightly, mouth crinkling. “Damn. I wanted to check if you have a signal. I can’t get one, and everyone else I’ve talked to can’t either. And I’ve got a smart phone. It doesn’t make sense.”

            “Well, we _are_ in the middle of the woods,” I said – but clearly I wasn’t the first person to have considered the possibility of Monobear deliberately removing our access to the outside world. And, unfortunately, the more I thought about it, the more logical it seemed.

            “You ever seen my phone?” Enoch asked. “Look at my phone.”

            He pulled it from one of his trench coat pockets before I could respond and held it out for me to see. It was thin, black, and very clearly a smart phone. “My theme is Steampunk,” he said, then unlocked it to reveal a complex, brown- and orange-based screen that consisted mostly of cogs. “What do you think?”

            “Cool,” I said. I was quiet for a moment, then added, “What else do you have in those pockets, anyway?”

            He grinned – I got the idea that this was a favored topic of his. “Lots of shit. I’ll show you.”

            He sat up and adjusted himself to rest on his knees, then produced a myriad of items from his pockets, hoisting them up in both hands and then laying them down on the ground in front of us so I could see. There was a small bottle of liquid, two Rubix cubes, his phone, and a 4DS. “Why do you have all of this?” I asked.

            He picked up a Rubix cube in each hand. One of them was three by three, and the other four by four. Both were solved. “I like working on these. I have the algorithms memorized. It’s… calming, I guess. I dunno.

            “See, mix it up for me.” He handed me the three by three. I quickly spun the sides around until nothing matched and, to me, it looked like a complicated mess. He took it back and had it solved again in about two minutes.

            “Nice,” I said. While he’d been solving it, my eyes had wandered over to the other items, and my attention was caught by the bottle of liquid. “But, um. Why do you have lube…?”

            “What? Uh, wait, shit, no that’s not lube,” he managed. “It’s Lubix. It’s for the Rubix cubes.”

            “What’s it do?” I asked.

            He picked up the bottle, staring at it. “It keeps the cubes from sticking together. So you can move it really fast without it breaking.”

            “Okay,” I said. “And the 4DS?”

            “Are you forgetting?” he pointed at himself, grandiose. “Super High School Level Gaming Addict. I’ve gotta have _something_ with me. Although it’s dead right now, and it’s not like there’s anywhere on the campsite for me to charge it… But you get the point.”

            “Well, it’s certainly some cool stuff,” I said.

            “The other thing is my watch,” he added, holding up his wrist for me to see. I’d noticed it when I first met him – it looked like it had cost some money, to put it simply. It was solid, durable, and glinted like steel. “I always have to have it with me. I hate it if I don’t have my watch.”

            “It’s really nice,” I said.

            “Thanks.” He gathered up the items and returned them to his pockets, leaning back against a pole that marked the pathway out of the clearing. I stood.

            “It’s starting to get dark out. I think I’m going to head back to my cabin.”

            He blinked up at me, expression feigning disinterest. “Okay. It was nice hanging with you.”

            Nothing too special had happened, but after talking with Enoch I supposed it was fair to say that I’d learned more about him. Or, at the very least, more about his pockets. Once I was back inside my cabin, I found myself regretting the fact that I didn’t have a watch of my own. It would be nice to know what time it was.

            A few minutes later, my wish was granted: the loudspeakers blared to life and Monobear’s voice purred through them. “Eh… It is now 10 PM. Night Time begins now. Sleep tight!”

              _I should probably sleep,_ I thought. _It won_ _’t do any good if I_ _’m tired tomorrow like I was yesterday._

Thinking this, I slipped beneath the covers, finding them to be bitterly cold. I sat there for a little while, wondering if I should go out to the firepit, but before long the sheets thawed to my body warmth and I fell asleep.

~ ~ ~ ~

            The next morning, I was awoken by the unpleasant voice of Monobear gurgling through the speakers. “…7 AM. Night Time is over. It’s time for another _beautiful_ wilderness day!”

            I sat up, shivered from the cold, and then hastened to grab my jacket from the table. Even after putting it on, I found my limbs shuddering with that pre-shiver that comes before the actual, full-on teeth-chattering. I shook myself, trying to warm up, but to no avail. Shoving my hands in my pockets, I made my way to the firepit, knowing full well that I’d be able to warm up over there.

            I was surprised to find no one else around the clearing – I must be the first person awake. The fire was low from having burned all night, so I added a handful of woodchips and a log from the newly-replenished stack to keep it going. By the time I’d finished, I could see Gam, Gigi, Max, and Ryan approaching up the path, all walking together in a group. Max was lurking off to the side and Gam was talking animatedly – in other words, all was as it should be.

            “…a good idea. Everyone will be safe because we’re together, and no one will be cold,” she was saying. “And anyway, we’re on a fucking camping trip. It makes sense.”

            “But outside?” Ryan said. “A lot of people aren’t going to be up for that kind of shit.”

            “It sounds like fun, though!” Gigi said. “Fun and safe. Good combination.”

            Max was glancing away, avoiding eye contact. “I don’t care. As long as everyone keeps to themselves, it’s not a big deal.”

            Ryan shrugged. “If you all can convince the others, then I’ll go for it.”

            “Go for what?” I asked.

            “To have everyone sleep outside in the clearing,” Gam said. “You know, as if this were actually a camping trip, and not some sort of sick attempt to get children to slaughter each other.”

            “It won’t be scary or dangerous because we’ll be in a group,” Gigi said. “and we’ll all be warm because we’ll be out by the fire.”

            “There’s sleeping bags in the back of the gift shop,” Max said after a short delay. “It looks like they were old merchandise. We could use those.”

            “Nice find,” I said. “And I think it’s a good idea. I’d be up to it.”

            “See?” Gam said to Ryan, smirking. “This plan is fucking foolproof.”

            He grimaced. “Whatever.”

~ ~ ~ ~

            Just before the end of breakfast, Ryan stood on top of a table in the cafeteria and waved to get everyone’s attention. “As all of you know, Gam’s plan has received some solid support, so we’re sleeping out in the clearing tonight. We’ve got sleeping bags and shit, so you don’t need to worry about that. If you don’t show up… Well there’s nothing I can do, really, but we’ll probably be pissed. That’s all.”

            I couldn’t help but be pleased that Gam’s plan was going to work out. The fact that I knew so little about all of these students was, in my opinion, more than enough of a reason to get to know them better. Not only would a “sleepover”, as it were, be beneficial for the reasons that all the others had in mind, but it would also give me a chance to learn more about my fellow students. I figured that sticking together would provide us with… well, with a better chance of staying alive.

            With this in mind, I set out to find another student to spend time with. Today I was looking for someone in particular; Enoch’s sister. Or brother, I guess. I figured that she – or he, I guess – would have something to say about her sibling – and about our situation in general. When I found her in front of the firepit, however, she seemed to have her own agenda in mind.

            “The fire’s too low,” she said. I got the impression of a she today; I was going to go with that. “Help me keep it up.”

            After we’d spent quite some time tending to the fire, we both took a seat in front of it. It seemed to me like we’d gotten closer. I sat hugging my knees while she reached out towards the fire, as though pining for its warmth. Despite how close we were, she still shivered. “Are you cold?” I asked.

            “Yeah,” she said through gritted teeth.

            “How come?”

            She shrugged, movements stiff. “I don’t know. I’m always cold.”

            I blinked, uncertain of how I was supposed to respond, then said, “That’s kind of odd.”

            Derisive, she shrugged again. “People think everything about me is weird. They’re probably right. I mean, I do a lot of weird shit sometimes, y’know? And roleplaying just has this connotation. People think it’s weird.”

            I hesitated for a moment, then steeled myself. “Er… Maybe it has to do with the transgender thing?”

            She didn’t seem to react much. But maybe she was annoyed? Or impressed by my bravado? Or both? Neither? Maybe she didn’t even care in the first place. “Yeah, it’s possible. I mean I wouldn’t count it out. It’s simple, really, and the problem is that people underestimate how simple it is. I can just be anything I fucking want to. That’s all there is to it.”

            “Now I’m going to sound stupid,” I said, “but I’m not sure I follow.”

            “Alright, I’ll back up,” she said, then readjusted to sit closer to the fire. “Really I’ve been like this since I was twelve. But I didn’t know the proper term until almost, like, three years ago. And even then I hadn’t… come to grips with it, if you know what I mean. I wasn’t ready to make it public and shit. It took me another year to do that.”

            “So in terms of public knowledge, this is pretty recent,” I confirmed.

            “Yeah, I guess,” she said. “But it doesn’t really feel like that, y’know? I’ve always been this way. The only difference is that I have a name for it now.” She was quiet for a moment, then continued. “This is who I am. There’s no changing that.”

            “I think I get it,” I said.

            “I guess I can confuse people with it, though. Some people think I’m all over the place. But at the very least I know what I’m doing with myself. I know who I am.”

            I nodded, absorbed in thought, until my original purpose for having this conversation rose to the surface. “Um, what about Enoch? How does he fit into all of this?”

            “He doesn’t,” she muttered, and then grimaced. “I mean… he’s my brother, right? I love him. But I just… can’t handle his bullshit.”

            “Like what?” I asked.

            “The stupid comments he makes, the way he never listens… and he’s so nosy. He knows my underwear better than my fucking boyfriend – and he’s my _brother._ My brother!”

            _Aren’t brothers supposed to know those kind of things? He lives with you after all._ I didn’t voice my concerns aloud, however. Jae seemed to be getting pretty heated as it were. Which was ironic because… well, she’s cold, and… Oh nevermind.

            “It’s like… he doesn’t have an off switch,” she continued. “Or a sensor or something, I don’t know. He just runs his mouth and doesn’t know when to stop. And he ends up offending people, and then he doesn’t understand it when he does. It’s impossible to deal with.”

            I couldn’t truthfully say that I’d seen much of that. From my interactions with him, he seemed interesting and sociable. But something was, admittedly, off about him. He certainly had the potential to act in the way that she was describing. “I guess.”

            Jae hunched over, curling up, but this time I wasn’t sure if it was from the cold. “Sorry, I kind of went off the deep end there. You don’t need to hear all of this shit.”

            “Really, it’s not a big deal,” I said, quickly putting my hands up. “Actually, call me crazy, but I kind of like listening. I learn a lot.”

            She narrowed her eyes. “That’s what I’m afraid of, I guess. You learning about how fucked up all this shit is.”

            I was no longer certain as to which part of the conversation she was referring to. “Um,” I said.

            Despite the fact that she still occasionally shuddered, frame wavering like a guttering flame, she stood up and moved away from the fire. “Hey, thanks for the chat. And for helping with the fire. That was pretty cool of you.”

            She was gone before I could even think up a response.

            I debated spending that afternoon lying on my bed, as I was already engrossed by everything I’d learned so far, and wasn’t sure if I felt up to hunting down more information still. But ultimately I rose to my feet and headed out of the door of my cabin, determined to do something more useful than laze around. I’d barely gotten more than a few cabins down the row before I ran into Haley, lingering outside hers.

            “Oh, hey,” she said as I walked over. “You look bored. Do you like Sea World? I want to go to Sea World.”

            Haley and I talked about Sea World for a while. Ultimately I felt like we’d grown a little closer. We were sitting in front of her cabin, drawing shapes in the sand. There was no doubt that we were bored out of our minds. It almost made me wish for something to happen… but that something would probably be murder. And I definitely _didn’t_ want that.

            “What are you going to do when we get out of here?” she asked.

            I looked up at her in surprise. “You mean- You really think we’ll get out alive?”

            “Of course,” she said, looking aghast. “You don’t… You don’t really think someone here would kill one of us, do you?”

            I turned my gaze downward, realizing how pessimistic I must have sounded. “No, of course not. Everyone here seems like a good person to me. There’s no way they would ever… but Monobear, he… You saw how he acted when he was talking about it. If one of us doesn’t kill, I think he’ll come up with a new way to ruin our hopes.”

            Her face fell. “You’re probably right. Shit, this whole thing sucks.”

            Her eyes were dim with dismay, and I felt obligated to rid her of such negativity. I’d put it there in the first place, after all. “Um. But let’s not worry about that, okay? It doesn’t matter right now. We can talk about something else. Like, uh… What will _you_ do when we get out of here?”

            My question made her pause to think, and when she spoke it was with an almost embarrassed expression. “Oh, it’ll seem so shallow,” she said. “I just want to be able to shoot. Just do some archery practice, that’s all. Like, if they had some targets here, that would just be hella.”

            She seemed excited, so I chose to push the subject. “How did you get into archery, anyway?”

            “Again, it’s silly,” she huffed. “I really like Robin Hood, is the thing. The folklore is so cool, and rich, and interesting. I wanted to be able to shoot like that.”

            “And now you can?” I asked.

            “Th-That would be bragging,” she said, rubbing her neck. “But… Well, I am Super High School Level.”

            After a moment, she spoke again. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, this wasn’t like some automatic understanding of what I wanted to do with myself. I tried drawing and playing the guitar before that, but they just didn’t click. When I started archery, though, everything made sense. Again, I really don’t want to brag, but it felt like I was made to do it. I’ve only been shooting for a year, you see.”

            “That’s really impressive,” I said, eyes wide. “To have learned so much, in so little of time-”

            “Stop…” she said, looking down. “Really, I’m not that special.”

            “Special or not,” I said, “it’s definitely worthy of being called Super High School Level. I don’t think anyone would doubt your being here.”

            “Thanks,” she murmured.

            After a little more small talk, Haley and I parted, as the sun had long since disappeared and I wanted to get ready for sleep. (Part of my goal was to be well into unconsciousness before Monobear made the Night Time announcement. His voice really _was_ incorrigible.) In fact, I was already dressed and ready for bed, about to turn out the light, when I remembered that we were having that sleepover. Startled by my own idiocy at forgetting, I quickly grabbed a pillow and my lantern, locking the cabin door behind me as I made my way out into the night.

            In this, the middle of the wilderness, the stars did little to lessen the gloom around me. Darkness was complete, and if it wasn’t for my lantern I would have been trapped, unable to distinguish one direction from the other, or ground from empty space. It probably, I reflected, would be terrifying. However the moon was casting a thin, pale glow that faintly illuminated the path, and lessened the fear of being without lantern – I didn’t really need the moonlight though. Ahead of me I could see a joint blue and orange glow coming from the main clearing, created by the presence of the fire and several lanterns just like mine. Somewhat excited, I picked up my pace, heading towards the sleepover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to my friend Laura for the "Wakey-wakey, SHSL eggs and bakey."
> 
> Haley's talk of Sea World is of course a reference to the infamous video, "Here I am, at Sea World", and Haley's obsession with the line regarding an inconsiderate microwaved piece of soap.


	3. 1.2 "Martyrdom at its Finest"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First murder. Buckle your pants, kids.

(Ab)normal Days Part 2

            At the edge of the clearing, I was greeted by Ohanzee. It looked to me like he hadn’t really changed for the occasion – he wore pajamas normally, after all. He stood just next to the pole marking the entrance to the clearing, holding his lantern out in front of him, illuminating the path forward. I thought he looked a little less tired than usual.

            “Hey Flynt!” he said. “Nice to see that you made it, bro. I’m just standing guard and keepin’ count, don’t mind me.”

            “Okay,” I said. At his last comment, I remembered what Ryan had said about people not showing up. “How many of us are there?”

            “With you, that makes…” he narrowed his eyes in thought. “13. I think. I mighta lost count.”

            I was a little disappointed to hear that there were people who hadn’t shown up. Weren’t we supposed to be working together, to assure our own safety? But I shook it off quickly – Ohanzee’s grin was contagious, and the warm glow just ahead was one of safety and companionship. I didn’t want to dampen it by worrying about those who had chosen not to come.

            Moving past him, I held my lantern up in an attempt to counteract the glow of the fire and get a good look at our sleeping arrangements. Next to the fire was a total of 16 sleeping bags, wrapping around the pit in a ring. A few people seemed to have already chosen their positions, as some were sitting quietly on theirs, talking with others nearby, or already curled up to sleep. I was uncertain of what to do until I felt a hand on my back.

            “Thank god. I was starting to get pissed that you weren’t here. Shit, I would have raised hell for it tomorrow morning.” It was Ryan. His pajamas were fully black, as was to be expected. I couldn’t discern any other difference in his appearance – not when he blended in with the backdrop so well.

            “Yeah, stupid me almost forgot,” I mumbled, but grinned to let him know that everything was fine.

            “Sounds like you,” he said teasingly, but his demeanor soon turned more serious. “You heard anything from the others? We’re still missing three.”

            I frowned. “Who?”

            “You expect me to keep track of all these assholes?” he sighed, but then added: “Buck, Jason, and Dani.”

            “I haven’t talked to any of them recently,” I said. “It’s weird that they’re not here. I mean, I guess I would understand with Buck, but the other two? It doesn’t make sense.”

            He shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. I don’t give a shit about anyone here. Well, except you, I guess. But you don’t count.”

            I grinned at him, then said, “I’ll ask around.”

            After looking around for a little while, I selected one of the few remaining sleeping bags – a red one a few feet away from the fire. Gigi was just behind me, already curled up inside of hers with a sleeping mask replacing her normal goggles, and I moved quietly so as to not disturb her. I unzipped the bag partway and placed my pillow inside to claim my territory, then raised my head, looking around for someone to talk to.

            I stood there for a few seconds, unsure, until Gigi’s voice floated up to me. “Seeking some company?”

            I looked down at her, startled. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

            “I wasn’t sleeping,” she said, lips curled in a smug grin. Although I still couldn’t see her eyes, her face was considerably more visible without the goggles in the way. She had slender, almost unnaturally thin features, and her expressions were much easier to read. The sleeping mask rested just above her high cheekbones and held her mess of hair at bay. It was bright purple and had a pair of minimalist eyes drawn on it – one open and the other closed, like she was winking at me. “I was simply sitting here and listening,” she explained.

            “Not a bad idea,” I said. “But don’t you have trouble seeing with that mask on?”

            She shrugged, seemingly thoughtful. “Eyesight is the worst sense that we humans have. Relying on it is a weakness.”

            “That’s….” I said, and then stopped. “Um, I just don’t want you to run into anything.”

            She giggled. “I won’t.”

            I studied her face for a moment. Upon reconsideration, it was _still_ pretty hard to get a read on her. She seemed demure, as if she’d told a joke that I didn’t get. I was beginning to get the impression, however, that that kind of look was her default. “Hey, do you know what’s happened to Buck, Dani, and Jason? They’re the only ones not here.”

            “Hmm…” she pressed a finger to her lips. “I can’t say I’m sure. Buck wasn’t interested in attending from the very start. I didn’t talk with Jason at all. But Dani, she’s the odd one of the group. She’d seemed quite excited when I spoke with her about the sleepover. It’s worrying that she’s not here.”

            Monobear’s words involuntarily floated through my mind, and I said, “I hope she’s okay.”

            Gigi nodded in response.

            At length, I wandered across the clearing to the other side of the firepit, where I found Olivia and Enoch sitting in the row the farthest from the fire, talking. She was wearing light purple, tiger-striped pajama pants and a black t-shirt, and the sleeping bag they were sitting on appeared to be hers. As there were no free bags around, I assumed that Enoch had migrated over here from elsewhere to talk.

            “Hi,” she said.

            “Hi,” I returned. “How are you guys?”

            “Good,” Enoch said. “We were talking about video games. You know, the thing I got my title from.”

            “What ones?” I said.

            “ _Assassin’s Creed_ , mostly,” Olivia said, but her mind seemed to be elsewhere, as she then added, “Hey, do you know what happened to Dani-”

            “-Buck-” Enoch added.

            “-And Jason?” I finished. “No. I’m actually here because I’m asking people if they know anything about them.”

            Olivia frowned. “I’m worried about them. Especially Dani. Because she was so interested by the sleepover, and now…”

            Enoch glanced away. “You don’t think someone would actually-?”

            “No way,” I said, shooting both of them as firm a glare as I could muster. It died out, however, in the presence of Olivia’s intent, unreadable gaze. I looked away. “Everyone here is too smart. That wouldn’t happen.”

            Seemingly unsatisfied, Enoch shook his head and got up. “I’m going to go look for them. Just to be sure.”

            “Don’t go alone,” I said, then wondered why it was that I hadn’t told him to not go at all.

            He nodded – “I’ll grab Haley” – and then began to walk away.

            Olivia let out a long breath through her nose, lips tightly closed. Studying her face, I remembered what she’d said after our investigation on the first day. I hesitated for a brief moment, then hastened to bring it up. “Um, during the meeting. On the second day. You said that someone was controlling Monobear…?”

            She turned to look at me, one eyebrow raised. “Yeah, that’s right. I mean, of course there is. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

            “How so?” I said.

            “Things like that bear don’t exist.” She frowned. “A creature like that can’t be sentient. Someone has to be controlling it.”

            I was quiet for a moment. It _did_ make sense. And Monobear had told us that she was right – so why was I even bothering to ask? Still, I continued: “But why did you bring it up? Did you have any other evidence?”

            She stared at me, eyes searching mine, as though looking for something that wasn’t there. Briefly she opened her mouth, about to speak, but then closed it and tried again. “It was a hunch,” she said. “I was hoping I could get Monobear to confirm my suspicions. And he did.”

            “Oh,” I said. I couldn’t help but think that I was being lied to.

            “Listen, Flynt,” she said, her tone abruptly changing. “You’re nervous, right? Well… just trust me when I say that all of us can get out of this. Monobear is acting… reckless. We can escape, but only if he doesn’t succeed.”

            “Succeed?” I echoed.

            Her expression darkened. “No one can die. If someone dies, Flynt, he wins.”

            “What makes you say that?”

            She was quiet for a second too long. “It’s almost Night Time. Maybe we should get ready to sleep.”

            “But what about Enoch?”

            “He’ll be fine. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Flynt.”

            Unable to think of anything to say that might buy me a few more minutes, I stood and slowly wandered away, shooting her a few questioning glances as I went. Her eyes never left my figure – even when I was out of sight, I thought I could feel them following me, like a pack of hungry dogs. I shook myself. It was cold out. I was unnerved.

            I sat on my sleeping bag, not yet bothering to get inside of it. Max and Neil were positioned near me; the former appeared to already be asleep (or at the very least, faking it), while the latter was sitting up, eyes wandering around the clearing, expression strangely content. Trying to shake my conversation with Olivia, I said, “What are you thinking about?”

            Neil blinked in surprise, as though he hadn’t even been in the room, then met my gaze and shrugged. “Just about how cool camping is.”

            “Not when we’re supposed to murder each other,” I spluttered.

            “No, I know that!” he said hurriedly. “I just meant, you know. In general.”

            I grinned. “Yeah, I know. I was just teasing.”

            The loudspeakers hummed and sparked to life, all in one great clamor, like an orchestra starting up; setting the stage. “Ahem. It is now 10 PM. Night Time begins now. Sleep well and sleep tight!”

            “Well, that’s my cue,” Neil huffed, and clicked off his lantern. Gradually, the other lanterns clustered around the fire winked out, and after mine was extinguished, all that remained was the fire itself. It glowed like an orb, a red core at the center of our circle. Part of me almost wished that I had a sleeping mask like Gigi, to block out the light; but I was asleep before I could worry about it any longer.

~ ~ ~ ~

            When I woke up, stirred to life by Monobear’s morning announcement, my first thought was that this sleepover had been a really good idea. Not a single part of my body had gone cold during the night, and I’d slept much better than I did on any of the other nights so far. The fire kept the bitter morning cold at bay as I lifted myself out of the sleeping bag, glancing around. The others were gradually getting up as well. Seeing the three empty, unused bags, I felt a pang in my chest. The other three may not have been with us, but I nevertheless found myself hoping that they’d had a good night.

            “We should go to the cafeteria,” Gam said, getting up to stretch. “Get something to eat.”

            It quickly became clear that the rest of the group agreed. Something felt off, but I wasn’t about to argue – I was hungry. We followed her on the short walk to the cafeteria, stretching and yawning on the way. As I walked, I noticed Haley amongst the group, and sped up to match her pace. “Hey, you went with Enoch to find the others last night, didn’t you?”

            She nodded. “We knocked on their doors, but no one answered. And then there was the Night Time announcement, so we figured we’d just go back to the clearing.”

            “Hmm,” I murmured, then looked down, deep in thought. Was one of them…dead? No, there was no way. That wasn’t going to happen. For whatever reason, they chose to not attend our sleepover, and that was the end of it. No one was going to die; none of us were capable of killing someone else. If there was anything I knew, it was that.

            So what was this tightness in my chest; this unease that spread through every limb? Something was off – I could feel it. It permeated the air like a sickness, spreading disease to everything it touched. My heart felt like a spring, wound and twisted and turned in circles until it was ready to snap and shatter like glass. Suddenly I was afraid – so afraid, infinitely afraid – and I couldn’t understand why. I thought I would choke from it.

            Gam opened the cafeteria door and let out a weak, gargled scream.

            I ran up next to her. The spring snapped.

            Back against the wall, prone and half-free of the sleeping bag around her legs, was Olivia, a rock embedded in her chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some meta on this murder:
> 
> It was originally going to be someone else entirely - I won't say who, because then you'll be paying too much attention to that person, but the point is that my first plan involved a completely different character. As I began writing, however, it occurred to me that my choice in victim wasn't "unexpected" enough. The point of the first victim is that it needs to be the character who's the least likely to die. So I took a step back and thought about it from that perspective: save for Flynt himself, of course, who of our cast has already been marked as a survivor?
> 
> The answer? Myself.
> 
> This, ladies and gentleman, is martyrdom at its finest.


	4. 1.3 "Show of Pity"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first investigation.

Investigation

            Everything ached. The fear receded briefly, in a moment of unparalleled horror, only to return with twice the strength. I felt ill. I felt dizzy. I felt like the floor was wandering away from me, off on a date with the ceiling, and neither were interested in offering me any support. I staggered backwards, away from the cafeteria door, the sounds of shock coming from the others dull and muted, as if many miles away. The speakers brought me back to life – not with their normal crackle and buzz, but with a roar, like a scream, and the sound of Monobear’s voice ringing through the center of my skull.

            “Ding dong, ding dong!” He was cheery. He was ecstatic. “A body has been discovered. After a brief period of investigation, a school trial will commence!”

            This wasn’t real. This couldn’t be real.

            My eyes fell to the body, just barely visible past the crowd of students. She was utterly silent and immobile; a long, gaunt shadow fell across her person, splayed and contorted by the light from the open door, shrouding her like a blanket, clinging to her figure like gossamer silk. Specks of dust floated in the air, suspended in the empty space. Still. Quiet. Frozen. Dead. Gone forever.

            This was real.

            I collapsed.

~ ~ ~ ~

            When I awoke, it was to the gleaming red eye of Monobear, right in front of mine. It narrowed, seemingly satisfied, and pulled away. “There he is!” he said. “I guess some people just can’t handle the shock of a murder. I don’t get it, myself. I mean, I told all of you that this was going to happen, and you act like it’s a surprise! This was inevitable.”

            As I sat up on my knees, head spinning, I saw Dani step forward, her hands balled into fists. “Shut up! Shut the fuck up! You set this up, didn’t you? You did it. You’re the one who killed her.”

            Monobear put his arm on my shoulder and leaned on me heavily. I stared at him from beneath that gel-soaked, sad excuse for an ahoge, dejected. He said, “Come now, there’s no reason to think so lowly of me. All I’ve done is watch and observe. I didn’t even need to give you bastards a motive this time.”

            No one said anything. Gam was shaking – she’d been the first to see the body – and several of the others were standing close together, huddled in horror. After having heard Dani speak, I quickly looked around to see that Buck and Jason were also here as well. They must have ran over when they heard the announcement. When I passed out.

            “I’m not going to waste my breath trying to prove my own innocence,” Monobear muttered. “One of you killed her and that’s a fact. Now, I suggest you get to investigating! You only have so much time, after all. Oh, before I forget,” he added. “I’ve included a little something new in your ElectroIDs. It’s sure to help you with this case, so you better check it out!”

            As he walked off, Haley ran over and held her hand out. “Are you okay?”

            “Yeah,” I said, getting up. I sounded shaky. Broken.

            “This is fucked up,” Buck muttered, arms wrapped around his shoulders. “One of you fuckers is fucked up.”

            Dani was standing next to him, concern painted across her face. “You really think one of us did it?”

            “He’s right,” Neil said, glowering. “What would Monobear gain from lying about his own actions? He’s already got us trapped and cornered. Killing us in secret would be pointless.”

            “Investigate,” Ryan growled. “How the hell are we supposed to do that?”

            Our eyes involuntarily wandered over to Olivia’s body. In the silence, Enoch stalked over and leaned against the wall a few feet away from her. His lips were pressed tightly together. At our questioning glances, he shrugged. “Someone has to keep a watch on the body. Who knows what’ll happen if we don’t.”

            “But not just one person,” Neil said hurriedly, walking over to the other side of Olivia. “No offence Enoch, but what if you were the killer?”

            “I get it,” he said.

            “So… we investigate,” Jae breathed.

            Pamela nodded. “Right.”

            In the midst of an uncomfortable silence, the 15 of us gradually parted, though most of us stayed in the area. There _was_ a body to look at, after all. I figured the best place to start would be with my ElectroID, so I could see what Monobear had been talking about. I mean, I really would have preferred to not do anything at all, but… we had no choice. Determined, I took the ID out of my pocket.

            On the main screen was a new tab, listed “Monobear Files”. When I selected it, I was taken to a screen with a picture of Olivia’s body and a list of information about the murder:

            _The victim is Olivia Fishwick. Her body was discovered lying against the wall of the cafeteria. The victim died around 2:15 AM. The cause of death was bleeding out, due to being stabbed once by a sharp object. The wound is in the general location of the heart. The victim also has severe bruising around the sternum area. There are no traces of poison or drugs._

            I reread it a few times, frowning. By what I was reading, it seemed like it was a simple killing; one wound, one weapon. Unless the file was hiding something from us, this appeared to be quite straightforward. It looked like it could even be easy to solve. Wait – I shook myself in surprise – I was thinking about this as if I’d never known her. Disturbed, I forced myself to walk over to her body. I needed to check it.

            “That Buck kid is right,” Enoch mumbled as I came forward. “This is messed up.”

            I regarded him for a moment. “You were… You guys talked a lot, didn’t you?”

            He looked away, eyes narrowed. “She was pretty cool, I guess.”

            I was about to lean down to the body, but he spoke up again. “I mean, she seemed distant. Not like, untrustworthy, or anything, but… Like there was a lot on her mind. I thought… I don’t know. I didn’t think she’d _die_.”

            “Yeah, I know what you’re talking about,” I said, nodding. My stomach hurt. I’d been hungry when we walked in here, but I certainly wasn’t anymore. Enoch was quiet now, so I knelt down next to Olivia’s body, taking a deep breath. The room smelled sterile, like a hospital, and it made me dizzy.

            To put it simply, the presence of a dead body was more than enough to distract me from what I was doing – even if what I was doing involved the body itself. She was lying on her right side, her back against the wall and her legs out in front of her, wrapped in the sleeping bag. Her head was turned away from me, pressed against the ground, spine twisted at an awkward angle as a result. I couldn’t see her face, as it was hidden by a sheer wall of hair.

            Ohanzee had come up behind me and was staring down at her. I said, “It’s weird, the way she’s lying. Someone wouldn’t have landed like that naturally.”

            “Hmm,” he said. “Well, the body goes all limp when someone dies, don’t it?”

            “That’s true,” Neil spoke up. “But I don’t think it would have made an effect that quickly.”

            “What do you mean?” I asked.

            He hesitated briefly, then straightened up from where he was leaning on the wall. “Say she was standing normally when she was killed. When she fell-” he let himself collapse, limbs folding out from beneath him. He landed on his side, body limp – but not anywhere near as tangled up as Olivia was. He raised his head. “See? It’s not the same.”

            “Nice… show,” Ohanzee said.

            “So she was moved?” I asked.

            Neil got up. “Maybe. Or maybe not. And if she was moved, why? And why here?”

            Unable to give him an answer, I knelt down to inspect the wound, just as Pamela was doing the same. The two of us glared at the rock, nestled amid the folds of her bloodstained shirt, wondering what to do. The object looked like any old rock you could find on the side of the road: misshapen, dark gray, and dirty. I put my hand out, then retracted it, glancing at Pamela. “Maybe I should… You know.”

            She looked up at me, eyes meeting mine for a split second, then shot her gaze down to the floor. “Y-Yeah. We need to… familiarize ourselves with the murder weapon. So we… So we know what happened.”

            I reached out and placed my hand on top of the rock, clenching my fingers so as not to touch her skin through the shirt’s fabric. I didn’t want to do this. As I worked, I tried to distract myself by looking at her necklaces – they were splayed about randomly. Some pendants had fallen down her hairline, behind her neck, while others were lying on her person or at her side. I tried not to think about the effort it took to pull my arm up, or the sound it made. I tried not to think about how Enoch’s gaze was boring into the side of my head. I tried not to think about rocks tearing through flesh.

            There was no blood when it came free. Remembering the Monobear file, it occurred to me that there probably wasn’t much left anyway. The rock truly had been jammed into her, like a stake: it was several inches long, and only about an inch at the top wasn’t covered in dark red blood. It tapered down into a jagged, natural-looking point. The thickest, unbloodied part at the top was only about the size of a large bottle cap. It didn’t look like it had been carved – in fact, it seemed as though it had always been this shape.

            “That’s…” Pamela said, sounding surprised. “Could I see that?”

            I handed it to her. She took it gently from the top, inspecting its surface with wide eyes. “This is from the firepit. It’s a piece of flint.”

            “W-Weird,” I said.

            “But…” she said slowly. “I don’t understand. We’re in the cafeteria; there’s knives back there. Why use something from outside?”

            “Do you suppose the culprit carved it?” Enoch put in, voice scratchy. “It looks too convenient to have been that way naturally.”

            I nodded. “I was thinking the same thing. But… Carve lines don’t look like this. And how would you carve a rock, anyway?”

            “Look at the pattern,” Pamela added, tracing a blood-soaked, circular line with a finger that hovered just above the surface. The curvature was that of a small semi-circle. “It looks like a seashell.”

            “However it got like this, it must be important,” I said.

            Pamela nodded, handed me the piece of flint, and then stood up. “You should… You know, put it back. For the others.”

            “Right…” I said.

            After the unpleasant work was done, I set about looking for the bruising that the Monobear file had mentioned. I gently pulled back the neckline of her shirt, and found that it began right along her collarbone: a circular bloom of dark, brownish yellow that disappeared beneath her clothes. I hesitated as I began to pull the shirt back a little farther, unsure of how much of her was bruised.

            “Wow, Flynt,” one of the few voices I wanted to hear snarled behind me. “Copping a feel on a dead body? That’s a new low, even for a shithole like you.”

            “Could you not, Buck?” I said, not bothering to turn around. “Now really isn’t a good time.”

            “Why not? Is it cause you’re too horny to wait for something that’s actually living?” he snapped. “Just tell me why the fuck you’re trying to feel up the victim, and I’ll leave.”

            I turned to glare at him. “Did you read the Monobear file? There’s bruising here, on her chest. Near the wound.”

            He took the bait and raised his head to glance over my shoulder. “Likely excuse,” he muttered, but seemed placated.

            I thought he’d already left as I turned around again to glower at her wounds, but then he spoke up once more. “Huh. Well. We know she got it before she died. ‘Body can’t bruise after death.”

            “Really?” I said.

            “Um, yeah? Are you fucking stupid? The blood isn’t moving around in her body. She _can’t_ bruise.”

            “Interesting,” I said, tone flat, as I put her shirt back in place. I hadn’t gotten to see the whole bruise, but I assumed that it extended around the entire wound. Wanting to question Buck before he left, I stood up. “You weren’t at the sleepover last night.”

            “And a good thing I wasn’t,” he said. “I might be the dead fucker in front of us otherwise.”

            Talking to him made me even more ill than I already was, but I forced myself to continue. “So what did you do? Stay at your own cabin?”

            His eyebrow arched up. “Yeah. What the fuck else would I be doing? Stripping a dead body?”

            “No,” I grumbled. “There were other students who didn’t come. I thought maybe the three of you had gotten together, or something. Haley and Enoch knocked on all of your doors, but none of you answered.”

            He averted his gaze, movements a little too quick for my liking. “I didn’t know there was anyone else.”

            I was quiet for a moment, then grinned and said, “Likely excuse.”

            He sneered before walking away. I was smiling at his receding figure, but on the inside I could feel nothing save for increasing concern. It was likely he’d been lying – he might have known about the others. But why was he keeping it a secret? What did they do?

            Knowing that I would do nothing but frustrate myself by dwelling on the subject, I knelt down again to see what else I could find out about Olivia’s body. The only thing of much relevance that remained was her sleeping bag, so I turned to face her legs. From the knees down they were inside of it, while the rest of the bag was dragged out behind her on the floor. The angle made me narrow my eyes in thought.

            “What is it?” Max said, kneeling just inches from me. I stood up, wheeling in shock.

            “Shit!” I managed. “You scared me. Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

            He stared, expressionless, and I stared back, waiting for him to respond. Finally he said, “What is it?”

            I took a deep breath. “The sleeping bag. The way it’s arranged, it looks like someone dragged her body from the cafeteria doors to here.”

            He looked down at the body, eyes flicking back and forth as he studied it. After a moment he nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. Especially since it’s only on the bottom of her legs – like it fell off partially as the culprit was moving her.”

            “Exactly,” I said. “But… I don’t know, something seems weird about that.”

            “I was thinking that too. If the culprit moved her body from where she’d been sleeping, then how come there wasn’t a blood trail? Or drag marks outside? And why even bring the bag at all? It seems both inconvenient and pointless.”

            “I wonder…” I said slowly. “Maybe they somehow managed to kill her from entirely within the sleeping bag? Then all of the blood would be inside of it.”

            He looked startled. “She died from _bleeding out_. There’s no way all of that would fit in there.”

            I shrugged. “Maybe they cleaned it up afterwards? It would solve the no-blood-trail problem.”

            Max shook his head, expression firm. “It wouldn’t make sense. Why bother going to all that effort if we’re going to find the body either way?”

            “I’m still going to check,” I said, then knelt to unzip the bag, noting as I went that it was zipped up the entire way – as if it had been around her body from the very start. Inside, however, I found not a single drop of blood. The outside was devoid of stains as well. There was no way someone could have made it this clean, so my theory appeared to have been proven wrong.

            “That’s interesting, though,” Max said when I stood up again. “There’s no blood on the outside. I wonder how that worked.”

            I nodded, then mused aloud, “I guess I should go investigate elsewhere. I think that’s all I can find out about the body itself.”

            His gaze was lowered. “I suggest looking in the clearing. I found some interesting things.”

            “Thanks,” I said.

            Outside, I found Haley leaning against the building, glaring at the floor. She seemed to be deeply annoyed by something beyond just the obvious, so I said, “Is everything okay?”

            She looked up. “Hmm? Oh yeah, I’m fine. There’s just… Something about Olivia’s body is bothering me.”

            “What is it?” I asked.

            “There’s no blood,” she said. “Anywhere. That Monobear file said that she bled out, so there should be a lot of it, but I haven’t seen any blood at all.”

            I nodded. “I’ve been worried about that too. I even checked inside the sleeping back, but it’s totally clean.”

            “Obviously the culprit must have cleaned up the crime scene,” she said, frowning in thought, “but still, that’s an awful lot of blood. It would have been very challenging to make things as clean as they are. Why did they even bother, I wonder?”

            “And more importantly, how?” I added in agreement.

            “I’m going to go look around and see what I can find,” she said. “I’ll talk to you later.”

            As Haley walked away, I checked the ground in front of me to see if I could find skid marks, lines in the dirt, or any other sort of evidence that a body had been dragged. Everything looked normal, though – that, or our footsteps had covered up what remained. I raised my head, frowning, to look out at the clearing. All of our sleeping bags were still laid out around the fire. There were a few people in the clearing, but my attention was caught by Gam, who was crouching just in front of the firepit.

            Seeing as she’d been in a bit of a state earlier, I thought it might be a good idea to check up on her. “Hey, Gam. Are you alright?”

            She looked up, seemingly startled. “Uh, yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

            “I don’t know,” I said with a shrug. “You seemed sort of freaked out earlier.”

            Now it was her turn to shrug. “No need to go all psychiatrist on me. It’s fine. I was just looking at the fire – there’s something off about it.”

            “There is?” I said, turning my attention to the flames. “What is it?”

            “It’s bigger than normal,” she said. “Usually it’s pretty low in the morning, but today it doesn’t need fresh fuel. It looks like someone added to it during the night.”

            “Added what?” I said.

            “I think I have the answer,” a voice said behind us. I wheeled around to see Jae approaching, eyes narrowed. “I was checking the fire out earlier. It’s mostly burned up now, so I can’t really show you, but there was something in the fire that wasn’t wood.”

            I was about to respond, but then he suddenly continued: “Well, I mean, it _was_ wood. I mean, not like dick wood, but like, not-firewood-wood. Oh, for fuck’s sake. The point is, it looked like a pole of some sort. It was snapped in half. It looked like some other stuff was added in there, too. Looked like fabric or cloth. Oh, and something plastic as well.”

            I blinked in surprise. “I wonder what all that was.”

            Jae threw her hands up. “Beats me. But knowing the way the world works, there’s no way it’s just a coincidence.”

            I then chose to pace around the clearing, looking for anything of interest, but my attention was quickly grabbed by the presence of Ryan. He’d just emerged from the cafeteria and was frowning at the ground, expression one of pure annoyance. I imagined he was more than a little enraged about the odds currently placed against us. I walked over.

            “Hey,” I said. “How’s it going?”

            He shrugged. “Stupidly, as usual. You find anything interesting?”

            “A few things, yeah.” I gave him a brief description of my discoveries so far.

            He huffed when I was finished, expression a thoughtful one. “I don’t know how the fuck we’re going to pull out of this one. Seems impossible, to me. This is so stupid.”

            “It’ll be okay. Maybe,” I said, then blinked in surprise because I’d realized something. “Hey, you changed your clothes.”

            “Huh?” He glanced down. He was wearing his normal jeans and hoodie, the pajamas from the night before now nowhere to be seen. “Yeah, I changed out of them. Did you think I was actually going to solve a fucking murder in my nighties? It’s bad enough that someone had to die in them.” He paused briefly, expression flashing for only a nanosecond to remorse, then back to annoyance. “Poor girl.”

            I didn’t dare comment on his show of pity, as it would only have put him in a mood. “Good point. Maybe I should change before we start that trial thing.”

            “I think a lot of other students are too. Me and my good ideas, y’know?”

            I began walking back towards the cafeteria, unsure of what to investigate, but then thought better of it at the idea of Olivia’s lifeless figure. Investigation had helped to keep my darker thoughts at bay, but now they began to return, closing in on me. One of us was a killer. One of us had murdered for the sake of getting out. It chilled me.

            I was snapped out of my reverie by the smiling figure of Gigi, who was standing between the cafeteria and the pool and attempting to wave me over. She had put her goggles back on and seemed quite intent to get my attention. I walked over. “What is it?”

            “I’ve made a most intriguing discovery, Flynt,” she said. Her words were lighthearted, but a seemingly permanent frown was planted on her face. It looked like she was taking this pretty seriously too – albeit in her own way.

            “What is it?” I asked.

            “This way.”

            She turned, not giving me time to respond, and set a brisk pace down the miniature alley between the cafeteria and pool. I was surprised to find that there was a collection of garbage cans sitting against the cafeteria’s rough stone wall. Calise was standing next to one of them, hands held together in front of her. Gigi gestured to one of the trash cans, the lid of which had been removed.

            I glanced inside. It was just trash, right? “What am I looking for, exactly?” I asked.

            “Must I do everything?” Gigi said, but her tone was still light. She stepped forward and pulled a plastic bin out of the trash can – it was small and clear, like the drawers in plastic shelving units. She lowered it so that I could look inside.

            Within was a small amount of water, pooled in the corner, a collection of rock slivers, and a large gallon jug with the label torn off. I picked up one of the rocks. It was jagged and dark gray – it seemed to me like it had once been part of a larger piece. “This looks like the flint. The murder weapon,” I said.

            “Exactly what Gigi and I were worried about,” Calise said. “I think the culprit threw it out.”

            I narrowed my eyes. “But how did this happen? Pieces of the weapon breaking off? I don’t understand.”

            “I don’t get it myself,” Gigi purred, “but this bin is quite interesting as well. I wonder why there’s water in it. _And_ why it was thrown out with this flint.”

            “What about the jug?” I asked.

            She stared down at it. “There’s no way to know what was inside without the label. It’s completely empty, so whoever was in need of this liquid didn’t leave any behind.”

            “Oh, there was one other thing we found,” Calise said, and pulled a small bottle out of the garbage. As stereotypical as it was, I knew immediately what I was looking at from the large skull and crossbones printed on the label.

            “Poison?” I said, shocked.

            She nodded. “Rat poison – but it could kill a human too. There’s bottles of it in the gift shop. I guess this place had a rodent problem or something?”

            “That’s odd, though. Because Olivia-”

            “-Wasn’t poisoned,” Gigi finished for me, nodding sagely. “The Monobear file says so, which means it must be true. This game of his wouldn’t be worth his time if he was just going to lie.”

            Calise returned the bottle to the trash can. “So the question still stands…”

            “…Why is this poison here?” I murmured.

            As I walked out of the mock alleyway and back into the clearing proper, I saw Jason walking towards the cabins and hastened to catch up to him. “Hey, Jason!” He turned.

            “Hey. Flynt, right? I’m bad with names.”

            I nodded, trying not to look like I cared. “I wanted to ask you about last night.”

            He stopped walking, and adjusted his stance to face me. We were standing a few feet away from the firepit, closer to the cabins than the other buildings. “What about it?”

            “You didn’t come to the sleepover.”

            He shrugged. “I didn’t feel like it. I was too busy playing Pokemon.” He pulled his DS out of his pocket and wiggled it in the air for me to see. As I watched he glanced down at it, expression morose. “Although of course the thing is about to die now. It’s so stupid that we don’t have any power.”

            I reflected briefly on the double meaning of his statement. “Right. So nothing else was going on? You didn’t talk to any of the others?”

            “No,” he said. “I didn’t even know there _was_ anyone else until the body announcement. All three of us went running from our cabins at once, you see.”

            “Really? That’s… very interesting, actually. Thanks.”

            “No problem.”

            As he walked away, I felt an agitated mixture of excitement and annoyance rise in my throat. So I _was_ right – Buck had been lying to me. He had to have known about the others, because they all came down together. Of course the question still remained as to why he wouldn’t tell me the truth… But I didn’t have time to worry about that right now. I had to go find Dani.

            As it turned out, her location coincided perfectly with the one other place I wanted to investigate – the gift shop. When I entered the front room, dimly lit and full of dust, I was more than a little confused at the lack of merchandise inside. Calise had claimed that there was poison here, but, just like on the first day, the racks were completely empty save for a few damaged stuffed animals and a pile of key chains. My exploration led me down a small, almost unseen hallway in the back corner of the room that looked to me like it was meant for workers. Down it were two bathrooms for male and female (both without water) and a large metal security door that had been partially broken off its hinges and was hanging forlornly to the side of its threshold, as though in mourning.

            Beyond this, I found myself in a sizeable storage room, filled with large metal racks of merchandise. The wares included anything from bug spray to fishing nets; snow globes to hunting magazines; gummy snakes to postcards – and most of it was undamaged to boot. I found Dani inspecting a row full of new hunting bows, all wrapped in dusty plastic. “Haley would like this,” she said as I approached.

            “Still no targets, though,” I murmured.

             She shrugged. “True. How you feeling? You were passed out when I arrived.”

            “I’m okay,” I said, a little taken aback. I hadn’t even put any thought into that since I’d awoken. “Speaking of when you showed up. What did you do last night?”

            She searched my face, quiet for a moment. “Um. Slept?”

            “No, I mean…” I sighed. “You didn’t come to the sleepover. Was there a reason?”

            “Oh, that.” She turned back to the bows, tone one of disinterest. “I had more important things to do.”

            What was that supposed to mean? I’d already had a few people comment on how excited she’d been the day before. What was with this sudden change in attitude? “Like what?”

            “It wasn’t anything important,” she snapped, critical gaze flicking back to mine. “What, do you think I murdered Olivia?”

            “I- No! Of course not,” I managed. “I’m just trying to see what was going on at the time so I can-”

            “Solve the murder and be the hero?” she growled. “Well, I had nothing to do with it, so there. You have what you want. I’ll see you at the trial.” She turned on her heel and stalked out of the storage room, shoulder roughly bumping against mine as she went. I spun around to watch her leave, more than a little in shock. Why was she so upset all of a sudden?

            To further the annoyance, it seemed as though I’d gotten a completely different story from all three of the missing students – and Dani’s was so vague that I wasn’t sure if it even counted. Agitated, I threaded my way through the shelves until, near the back, I found a neatly organized rack full of bottles of rat poison. My irritation was dulled when I noticed that one of them was missing, leaving a small gap in the front row. So Calise was right – the bottle that we’d found had come from here. But what was the relevance? Olivia wasn’t poisoned. Did this even matter?

            Head full of too much information for me to think straight, I made my way back to my cabin, deep in thought. After changing into my normal clothes, I felt a little more comfortable, but certainly not ready for anything like a school trial. I didn’t even know what that would entail. There was a good chance that we wouldn’t even come out of it alive.

            Well, all but one of us.

            Murder… the thought made my head ache. It was awful. Was there really someone that terrible amongst us? Just then, the speakers turned on: “ _Aaaaallll_ right, you bastards! I think you’ve been given more than enough time. Please gather in the field behind the clearing. You’ll know where to go from there!”

            Unable to escape, and knowing that refusing would get me nowhere, I made my way to the field that I’d woken up in on the first day. I found the other students gathered around a perfectly square-shaped hole in the ground, something which definitely hadn’t been there before. Peering over the edge revealed a staircase that appeared to have been carved out of the ground itself. It smelled strongly of dirt and dust.

            “I guess we’re supposed to go down,” Jae said, eyes narrowed.

            “Right,” Max said. “Let’s get this over with.” He started down the stairs before anyone could stop him.

            Hesitating, I glanced up to see Haley off to the side, expression one of concern. I walked over. “Are you okay?”

            “Huh? Y-Yeah, I’m fine.”

            I eyed her for a moment, then said, “Did you find out anything about the blood?”

            Her gaze wandered around the clearing, staring at the others who were beginning to make their way down. She then looked at her feet. “Well, no. Not really. But it’s just… The grass over here, it’s wet, you see… And… there’s a smell…”

            I swallowed. “And it hasn’t rained, has it?”

            “No, it hasn’t.”

            I looked down. At the horrible thought of my tennis shoes getting wet, I started to rapidly step backwards. “We should go.”

            “R-Right.”

            The trip down the flight of stairs was fairly short. Soon we found ourselves crowded at the entrance to a large and very rickety-looking service elevator. We all piled in, and without anyone pressing a button, the machine abruptly began its journey down. Ears filled with the hum and occasional screech of metal, I sought out the faces of the students around me. The gloom increased as we descended, and it was hard to see their expressions, but I could sense fear. I could smell it in the air. We were filled with it; consumed by it.

            Ensnared in the story of a murder that we couldn’t possibly hope to solve, the light from above was stolen away, and we fell, further and further, into epitomical darkness. I thought I might never know how to see again; or had never known it in the first place. It was cold, too – cold stone all around us. My only consolation was in the students around me, one of whom couldn’t be considered a student anymore – rather, a killer. I shuddered. The elevator stopped.

            The doors opened and our eyes adjusted onto a courtroom of life and death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing too important to note in this chapter, except the time of death: I was born around 2:15 AM.


	5. 1.4 "Knapping"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First half of the trial. Veeeeeery revealing.

School Trial Part 1

            The courtroom’s interior was wide and spacious, but the ceiling was low. It made me wonder how far underground we were, or how this place had been built, or what its original purpose had been… the questions were endless. As we all stepped forward, I let my eyes wander, trying to take in as much as I could. The walls were pale brown stone, empty save for a handful of red banners put up at even intervals. From the ceiling hung a collection of candles in small brass tapers; the only source of light in the room. Overall, it gave the impression of something several centuries old; ancient and withering away.

            The majority of space was taken up by a circular collection of podiums – one for each student. At one of them was a tall wooden pole with a picture frame on it, sporting a picture of Olivia’s face; grayed out, with a red X through it. It made me grimace. At the front of the “courtroom” was a tall wooden throne with plush red pillows. Monobear sat on it, looking bored.

            “There you are!” he said. “You bastards sure took your sweet time getting on that elevator. You know it’s not my job to just sit around and wait for you all day, eh? I’ve got a schedule too, you know!”

            “As if any of us care,” Gam growled as she stepped forward, eyes flicking across the podiums. She found hers and stood at it, seemingly resisting the urge to look nervous.

            Taking her lead, each of us sought out our positions. I found myself in between Jae and Gigi, fingertips pressed against the worn, smooth wood of the podium. Monobear stood up on his throne once we were all in place.

            “It’s good that you all still know how to walk,” he said. “Now, this is how the trial works: You argue until you come to a conclusion! That’s it! Pretty simple, isn’t it? Once you’ve decided on our lucky culprit of the day, we’ll vote. If you’re right, the guilty student gets executed. If you’re wrong, _all_ of you get executed – except the guilty party! Make sense?”

            “It seems simple enough,” Ohanzee said slowly, a frown on his face.

            “One question,” Dani said. “You’re not going to offer any help, are you?”

            “Eh…” the bear looked away, shifting in his seat. “No, I won’t. But if it’s necessary to solving the murder… um… Just don’t ask a bunch of questions! They give me a stomach ache, and I’ll stop answering.”

            I’d long since stopped trying to make sense of his bullshit, and I wasn’t paying much attention to it anyway; he’d gotten his point across. Calise said, “I guess that means we should get started?”

            “Sure, sounds great,” Buck grumbled. “How do you propose we do that, exactly?”

            “Um, I had an idea, actually,” Haley said, glancing around at the others. “I think we should do this in sections. Identify things like the place, time, and cause of death separately, then try to put it all together.”

            “Isn’t most of that covered already in the Monobear file?” Jason said, eyebrow raised.

            She nodded. “But we should still keep all of it in mind, in case it becomes relevant to the case. That way everyone’s on the same page.”

            “Works for me,” Ryan said, shrugging. “What should we start with?”

            “How about the weapon?” Jae suggested. “That’s an easy one, right? It’s that rock.”

            “It was a piece of flint,” I said. “Pamela and I… Um, checked it out.”

            Ohanzee looked disturbed. “You took it out of her, dude? That’s a little sick.”

            Max made a face in his direction. “It’s a good thing he did. We might not know what the weapon was, otherwise. Well, I would have known. I checked too. But the point still stands.”

            “It must have come from the firepit,” Pamela added in an attempt to get back on track.

            “Really?” Neil said, expression critical. “That doesn’t make sense. Her body was found in the cafeteria. Why not just use a knife?”

            “Maybe the culprit was rushed?” Jae suggested.

            “Hmm…” I said, looking down. “If the culprit was rushed, and they grabbed the flint from the firepit, then whatever happened must have started outside. But it still doesn’t explain why the culprit couldn’t have grabbed a knife ahead of time.”

            “Maybe Olivia caught on to what they were doing,” Enoch said. “Then they would have had to change their plan.”

            “What if they had a knife to start out with, but Olivia got it away from them?” Gigi offered.

            “No way,” Jason said. “I checked the kitchen, and there weren’t any missing knives. I think the only weapon that was used was that piece of flint.”

            “No, wait a minute,” Calise cut in. “That’s not right. We found a bottle of rat poison in the garbage. That could be considered a weapon, couldn’t it?”

            Gigi held up a finger. “Ah, but you forget, Calise – that poison had never been opened. The bottle was full.”

            “So what was it doing in the garbage? And where did the culprit get it from?” Jae asked.

            “I have no idea why it was there,” I said, “but I _do_ know it came from the storage room in the gift shop. I checked back there, and one of their stock was missing from the shelves.”

            “So maybe the culprit’s original plan was to poison Olivia, but she figured it out ahead of time,” Ryan said.

            “Um… I don’t know, that seems kind of weird,” Pamela said after a brief moment of hesitation. “How did Olivia know what they were planning if the poison had never been opened?”

            “Maybe she saw the culprit take it from the storage room?” Dani asked.

            I nodded slowly. “That makes sense. She was always really perceptive, right?”

            “Okay,” Haley said. “So the culprit went to get some rat poison from the storage room with the goal of killing Olivia. She was in the area, however, and saw what the culprit was doing. So then, last night… _something_ happened and the culprit had to switch their weapon to the piece of flint.”

            “Hold the fuck up,” Buck said abruptly. “That’s all fine and dandy, but her body wasn’t in any of those places. It was in the cafeteria. Someone mind telling me how the hell that works?”

            “The culprit must have moved the body,” Ohanzee said.

            I shook my head. “No, I don’t think so. I had the same theory myself, but there isn’t anything to suggest it. No drag marks, no blood stains.”

            “Maybe they carried her?” Calise said.

            “There still would have been drops of blood in the dirt,” Neil said. “And those are hard to cover up. Plus, a dead body is heavy.”

            “But she couldn’t have died in the cafeteria,” Ryan said, looking agitated. “The Monobear file says she died from bleeding out. So where’s the blood?”

            “I think I have the answer,” Gigi said, not without a hint of pride. “I’ve had this theory for some time now, actually. In the trash, we also found a plastic bin with some water in it. What if the culprit used that to clean up the blood?”

            “Soap and water?” Jason said, questioning her with a glare. “That’s not going to clean up a bunch of blood.”

            Enoch narrowed his eyes. “The cafeteria… didn’t it smell weird to you guys?”

            I blinked. “Yeah, it did, actually. I noticed that, but I didn’t think much of it. It smelled sort of… sterile. Like… Well, like it had been cleaned recently.”

            “But to smell like that, the culprit would have had to use something other than soap and water,” Neil said.

            “Hang on a minute,” Dani said, looking irritated. “She _couldn’t_ have died in the cafeteria. Didn’t you see the way her body was positioned? Someone had dragged her in there.”

            Max turned his eagle eyes on her. “No, that’s not right. Flynt and I checked. If someone had dragged her, there would have been bloodstains on the sleeping bag – but it’s completely clean.”

            “Um…” Ohanzee mumbled. “What if they killed her inside the sleeping bag? It was zipped up all the way, right?”

            Now his gaze arched over in Ohanzee’s direction. “No. There wasn’t any blood on the inside, either. It was perfectly clean.”

            “What if the culprit switched out sleeping bags?” Jae suggested.

            Gam made a face. “There were no spares. Only sixteen.”

            “That’s right!” Monobear piped up suddenly. “Sixteen sleeping bags for sixteen students. No more, no less.”

            “So…” Haley seemed lost for a second, then said, “That means she couldn’t have been killed in the sleeping bag.”

            “Or anywhere near it, in fact,” Neil added. “The blood would have sprayed. The culprit might have cleaned it, but… It wouldn’t have dried by morning. We would have noticed. Cleaning a floor is one thing, but something made out of cloth is another.”

            “Hey,” Gam said. “That reminds me. Someone threw some sort of cloth into the fire, right? What if that was her sleeping bag, and they used one of the missing student’s to replace it?”

            “Not possible,” I said. “When I woke up, all three of the spare sleeping bags were there. None of them were missing.”

            Ryan’s gaze shifted. “Wait a second. We should talk about those spare sleeping bags.        Specifically, the three students who were supposed to be in them.”

            Dani straightened. “What do I have to do with this?”

            He glowered in her direction. “Technically speaking, the rest of us have an alibi. We were all sleeping in the same place, anyway. But we have no idea what the hell you guys were doing.”

            “I think it goes without saying that I fucking despise all of you and didn’t want to go to some bullshit sleepover,” Buck offered. “So there you go.”

            “I was playing my DS,” Jason said with a shrug.

            Dani sneered, looking miffed. “Trying to get Wi-Fi. What else would I be doing?”

 _That’s not what you said earlier,_ I thought, gorge rising, but didn’t say anything. Just like before, all three of them had a different story. How were we going to solve this case if they were refusing to cooperate?

            “It doesn’t matter what you say,” Ryan snapped. “Because you weren’t at the sleepover, all three of you are prime suspects.”

            Dani’s eyes were knives. “If you’re so smart, then you should be able to figure out that I didn’t do it. Hell, I thought the three of us wouldn’t even be _on_ your suspect list!”

            “What?” he snarled. “Just because you weren’t at the sleepover means you’re innocent now?”

            “Uh…” Pamela hesitated a moment. “She _does_ sort of have a point…”

            Max nodded. “I agree. It’s unlikely that any of them did it.”

            “Why’s that?” I asked.

            He glanced in my direction. “Think about it. In order to get into the clearing to murder Olivia, they would have had to use their lanterns, or at the very least navigated around our sleeping bags to the firepit to get a piece of flint. We would have noticed. It’s much more likely that someone who was already there committed the crime.”

            “Now that you mention it,” Haley said, “it seems odd that _any_ of us did it. I mean, we were all right there, out in the open. We would have woken up if some sort of fight broke out, or if someone started screaming because they were stabbed. Even if they covered her mouth, we would have heard it.”

            “They must have forced her out of bed,” Jason said.

            I narrowed my eyes. “No. Again, she would have made noise.”

            “Knocked her out?” Calise tried.

            “To have hit her that hard… one of us would have heard it.”

            “Maybe they drugged her,” Ohanzee said. “That would have been nice and quiet.”

            “But the Monobear file says that there’s no traces of drugs on the body.”

            “Hmm…” It appeared as though Gigi’s eyes were shifting back and forth across the courtroom, but it was hard to tell with her goggles in the way. “What about chloroform? Technically that wouldn’t count, as there’s no residue on the body.”

            “Maybe…” I frowned.

            “The jug in the garbage!” Gam said, looking excited. “That must have been filled with chloroform.”

            “They don’t just _sell_ chloroform in jugs,” Jae said. “And why would that sort of shit be at a campsite in the first place?”

            “Not to mention, the jug was empty,” Calise added. “You wouldn’t need a whole gallon of chloroform just to knock someone out.”

            “And there’s not much else that the culprit could have plausibly used the chloroform for. It’s not exactly a cleaning agent,” Gigi sighed. “So I guess that theory’s shot.”

            “I think you’re onto something though,” Haley said. “What if the stuff in the jug was a cleaning agent?”

            “It would explain how they got rid of the blood…” Jason said slowly.

            “But what was it?” Pamela asked.

            Gam looked up slightly, narrowing her eyes and chewing on the inside of her cheek. “What about… bleach? I think they had bottles of that in the back of the shop.”

            I glanced around at the others, finding no objections. “It makes sense to me. And you’d certainly have to use a whole bottle of bleach to clean up that much blood.”

            “It would also explain the smell in the cafeteria,” Enoch said.

            “So the culprit had some bleach,” Dani grumbled. “Good for them. That still doesn’t answer the question that got us on this rabbit trail in the first place – how did they kill Olivia so quietly, right in front of us?”

            Max blinked. “I thought the answer was obvious. She must have gotten up of her own free will.”

            I looked at him in shock – the others were doing similarly.

            He looked around, our surprise leaving him equally as stunned. “I mean, it’s the only thing that makes sense. The cafeteria smelled sterile because the culprit used bleach to clean it up. But why would they clean it unless there was blood in there? Obviously she must have been murdered in the same location where her body was found. Hence, that was where the culprit cleaned up.”

            “But she was moved,” Neil said with a frown. “Her body wasn’t lying in any sort of natural position.”

            “Well… wouldn’t there have been blood behind her?” Pamela said. “They must have moved her to clean up, and then put her back.”

            “It makes sense to me,” Gigi said.

            “So they somehow convinced her to get out of bed and go into the cafeteria?” Calise mused. “Well… There’s definitely a chance that she could have been murdered from there without any of us hearing.”

            “No… That’s not right.” I stared at my hands, pressed against the podium. “She was the one who told me that one of us dying would lead to our downfall. She was too distrustful to just… follow someone like that. I don’t understand how this could have happened… to someone like her. She was too careful.”

            Everyone was quiet. I didn’t raise my head, because I knew they’d all be staring at me. I only looked up when I heard Gigi start speaking: “Er, let’s try a different angle for now. There’s only one thing left in the garbage that we haven’t talked about yet – those slivers of flint that we found.”

            “Wait,” Enoch said, looking startled. “You found pieces of flint in the trash?”

            Calise nodded. “It looks like they came off of the murder weapon. But we can’t figure out how.”

            “Holy shit!” he said, looking pleased with himself. “I wish someone had told me earlier. I know _exactly_ what happened.”

            “What?” I asked.

            His hands lifted up from the podium, gesturing as he spoke; excited. “Flint is a rock with special properties. It’s really strong, but capable of flaking – that’s what happens when it sparks, you know. It’s flaking a little bit. It’s called knapping. If you hit it against a hard object, it knaps. And the hotter the piece of flint is, the more of it knaps.

            “Now, it wouldn’t have been perfect circumstances, but if that piece of flint had been next to fire for the past three days, it probably would have been warm enough to break considerably if the culprit hit it against something hard. And it would have broken in a point – meaning it would have been great for stabbing.”

            “How do you know all of this?” Ohanzee asked, startled.

            He shrugged. “I research stuff sometimes.”

            Gigi was looking down. “But we’ve already established that the culprit’s original weapon was the poison. This knapping technique would have had to be premeditated to work, right?”

            “Not necessarily,” I said. “If what Enoch is saying is true, then the flint would have already been next to the fire all that time. They could have done the rest of it on accident.”

            Ryan’s eyes narrowed. “In that case, what did they hit it on to break it? Or… knap it. Whatever the fuck it’s called.”

            “Olivia,” Max responded. “ _Obviously._ ”

            “ _What?_ ” Gam said.

            He sighed. “Do I have to explain everything? _Think about it._ The stab wound was located around Olivia’s heart – that’s behind her ribcage. And a ribcage is a lot bigger of a target than a heart is. They missed the first time, hitting her ribs – which are very hard – and knapping the flint. That’s how she got bruised.”

            Buck rolled his eyes. “You’re wrong. She got the bruising from the stab wound; that’s why it’s around that area. Believe me, I had to go through the fucking torture of watching Flynt check.”

            “No, _you’re_ wrong,” Max said. “The bruising isn’t around the wound. Believe me, _I_ checked.”

            I blinked in surprise. “You mean… You pulled her shirt down all the way?”

            He glared at me. “Of course I did. I had to do a thorough investigation to make sure I had all of my facts straight.”

            “But…” Ohanzee’s eyes were wide. “That means you saw her-”

            “The point is,” he said, somewhat forcefully, “the bruising was to the side of the wound, closer to the center of her body. In other words, the culprit missed and hit her ribcage first, thereby knapping the flint.”

            “So…” Haley’s chest heaved. “Let me put this all together. The culprit got poison from the storage room, but was seen by their victim, Olivia. When the night came, she got up on her own, in preparation for their plan, and tried to stop them. The culprit had to change their plan, and took a piece of flint from the firepit, trying to stab her. He missed and hit her ribs, bruising her and snapping the flint to more of a point. He was then able to stab her in the heart, and so she bled to death.”

            “Okay,” Dani said, frowning. “But there’s still something I don’t get. If Olivia got up ahead of time, then she must have gone to the cafeteria, because she died there, right? But if the culprit’s plan went wrong while they were in the cafeteria, then how did they get to the piece of flint?”

            Everyone was silent – there was no logical answer. “Um… Maybe that will make more sense if we put the rest of the story together first,” I said. “We’ve already worked out some of what happened after she was dead.”

            Haley narrowed her eyes in concentration. “The culprit used a gallon of bleach and a tub of water to clean up the blood, and then disposed of it out in the field.”

            “The field?” Jason echoed.

            “That’s right,” I said. “Parts of it where we were standing were wet before we went into the elevator, but it hasn’t rained since we got here, and there’s no sprinklers.”

            “But couldn’t the culprit have just killed her there in the first place?” Ryan said. “Seems like less work.”

            “I don’t think so,” Gigi said slowly, one finger pressed to her chin. “Again, we have to consider that she would have had to willingly go out there on her own. And anyway, that wouldn’t explain the bleach and plastic tub.”

             “Hang on,” Jae said. “The culprit couldn’t have just used bleach and water to clean up the crime scene. They would need a mop or something, right?”

            Gam’s eyebrows knit together. “Hey, I know where something like that was. In the fire. The pole that was snapped in half.”

            “Oh yeah!” Jae said, clicking her fingers together. “That must have been what they cleaned up with. They burned it to destroy evidence.”

            “Speaking of,” I said, “there was some plastic in the fire too, wasn’t there? What if that was the bleach label?”

            “Of course!” Gigi said, brightening. “Why didn’t I think of that earlier?”

            “And the cloth you guys found?” Ryan asked.

            “Clothes, I’d imagine,” Max said. “The culprit would have gotten blood on theirs.”

            Haley’s eyes flicked back and forth as she tried to keep up. “So after Olivia was murdered, the culprit moved her body to clean up the crime scene with bleach, water, and some sort of mop. They then put all of the bloody water into the field, put her body back in place, collected the broken pieces of flint, and tore the label off of the bleach jug. They then put the tub, flint, jug, and poison in the trash, and burned the label, the mop, and their bloodied clothes. Is that right?”

            “Sounds right to me,” Dani said.

            “But that still doesn’t tell us who it was,” Buck said, annoyed.

            “Actually,” I murmured, having been deep in thought, “I think it _does._ I mean, all of these events, everything that happened… They never would have been possible if we hadn’t agreed to do the sleepover. And whose idea was that? Who pushed for us to have it? Who got up first this morning? Who opened the cafeteria doors and saw the body?”

            “Gam,” Gigi said quietly, but the empty eyes of her goggles never left mine.

            The girl herself stiffened, looking around in shock. After a short delay, wherein most everyone’s eyes rounded on her, she said, “What? _Me_? I didn’t kill her. Y-You fuckin’ crazy?”

            “It’s the only thing that makes sense,” I said, hearing the note of dismay in my words. “This sleepover had never been for the purpose of safety. Quite the opposite, in fact.”

            “Didn’t you yourself say that ‘this plan was foolproof’ when we agreed upon it?” Max added, expression foreboding.

            Everyone was looking at her now. She seemed to shrink away – I thought she might step back from her podium, but she held her ground, hands pressed against her chest. Her teeth were gritted, clamped together to the point where it seemed as though they would snap. “I w-wasn’t- I… It was stupid of me, okay?”

            “You mean you _did_ kill her?” Pamela said, shocked.

            “No. It wasn’t me, I swear. But the sleepover, it was…” She took a breath.

            “You’re right. I planned the sleepover for the sake of killing Olivia. I went to the storage room to get poison… I was going to kill her quietly, in her sleep. Then n-no one would have been able to tell who did it…” She shook herself. “But last night, as everyone was going to bed… I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t kill someone. It was too much. And it was a stupid plan, anyway. So I got up… I got up to go throw the poison out. And then I went back to bed. That’s all I know.”

            Everyone was silent for a moment. Then Dani said, “I don’t believe her.”

            I was about to nod in agreement, a motion that I had to force, but got interrupted. “ _I_ believe her.” It was Haley.

            “Why?” Ryan said, looking more than a little pissed.

            “Because,” she said, “we still don’t know the whole story. We still don’t know exactly what happened that got Olivia from her sleeping bag into the cafeteria. But when you include Gam’s part, some things start to fall into place.”

            Gigi’s head bobbed slowly up and down, thoughtful. “Yes, it’s true. Olivia stayed up to wait until Gam made her move. When she saw her heading towards the garbage cans, she must have gotten up out of bed to follow her. Maybe she was going to try and talk her down, without realizing that Gam had already given it up. And then the _real_ culprit made their move.”

            “But the murder still had to have been impulsive, right?” Ohanzee said. “We all agreed that the flint was a really odd choice of weapon.”

            Buck shrugged. “’Doesn’t change the story much. The culprit saw some shit going down, and decided it would be a good chance to fuck someone up.”

            “Gam,” I said. She wasn’t speaking, her head lowered – but it shot up at my voice. “I have a question. Why Olivia?”

            The color had drained from her face. “I-I don’t know. I guess… A-After her speech at the meeting on the second day, I thought… I thought she was the biggest threat. But I decided not to do it, okay? It was a stupid idea. I didn’t kill her. Please, believe me.”

            “I do,” I said softly, then dropped my gaze.

            “But that’s strange, isn’t it?” Enoch said. “The culprit chose the exact same victim that Gam did. Why not kill Gam herself? That would have made things a lot harder for us.”

            “Maybe they suspected the wrong person?” Jae said.

            “Or,” Max suggested, eyes narrowed to slits, “they killed the wrong person on accident.”

            I looked in his direction; that was all the prompting he needed. “It was dark outside. They were away from the fire, and their eyes hadn’t adjusted to the darkness. The culprit could have easily gotten them mixed up.”

            “Wait a minute,” Neil said, putting a finger up. “I know we’re making good progress and all, but there’s something that’s been bothering me this whole time. Why did the culprit clean the blood up? They didn’t hide the body or anything – we were going to find her, regardless of whether or not there was blood there.”

            Haley nodded slowly. “He’s right. It would have taken a lot of time and effort. Why bother?”

            “And they made it so clean, too,” Gigi murmured. “It was an expert job.”

            “Oh,” I said, and my stomach twisted, as though a piece of flint had been driven through it. “ _Oh._ ”

            “What is it?” Pamela asked.

            I didn’t respond immediately, inwardly kicking myself for having not figured this out earlier. The culprit was so obvious, it was like they were standing right in front of my face. The truth, as clear as though it had been written out in an official letter; stamped, dated, and personally handed to me. I guess that’s what happens when something gets so close to you – you can’t see it as clearly as you did before.

            “I know _exactly_ who the culprit is,” I said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case it wasn't already obvious, school trials are to be delivered in very dialogue-heavy two-parters. The second part will feature the big reveal of the culprit, the finalizing evidence, climax inference, and execution.
> 
> Enoch's "I research stuff sometimes" line comes from the fact that I've personally heard him say some variation of that statement on several different occasions. I've also heard the same thing from Gigi, but as she was around the flint pieces the entire time, it wouldn't have made sense for her to have that revelation.
> 
> Gigi's "I can't believe I didn't think of that sooner" stems from my prediction that that will be Gigi's exact reaction to reading that part.


	6. 1.5 "The Sands of Time"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> End of Chapter One.

School Trial Part 2

            Everyone was staring at me. I hesitated briefly; for a short moment, I imagined a future in which I didn’t reveal the culprit – a world in which I let them win. I pondered, for but a second, as to whether or not I would be willing to do that for them. What I was willing to sacrifice for them. How much they meant to me.

            So, so much.

            “It was Ryan.”

            But I didn’t have the right to make that choice.

            He stared at me, eyes wide. I saw his face flash through several different emotions – shock, fear, disbelief, rage – and my stomach twisted with guilt, but I didn’t back down or look away. The courtroom had gone quiet: no one dared to say a word. Well, no one but him.

            “What the fuck, Flynt,” he said. “You’ve fuckin’ lost it.”

            I shook my head, lips pressed together, expression one of dismay. “It couldn’t have been anyone but you. The culprit cleaned up the crime scene like a professional – like a mortician – would have. No one else here has the skill to do something like that with only bleach and water at their disposal. You’re the only one cut out for the job.”

            He took a breath. He looked like he was going to say something, but then stopped; one hand curled into a fist. “Some friend you are,” he said, “pulling this kind of shit.”

            He was trying to get to me: I could tell because it was working. I made every effort I could to slow my breathing and think rationally. I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to have to beat my best friend into submission like this. But if I couldn’t get him to admit what he’d done, then we would never get out of here alive. I said, “If it wasn’t you, then explain how the culprit managed to clean up the blood so well.”

            “Obviously they couldn’t have,” he said, eyes dark. “She must have been killed somewhere else. We were wrong.”

            “That’s not possible; we’ve already proven why.”

            His fist clenched tighter. “Then it wasn’t bleach in the jug. It was something stronger.”

            “Like what? What could have been on a camping site that could have helped them?”

            “I dunno. I might be able to tell you if I was her killer, but I’m fucking not, so just drop it, Flynt.”

            “Tell me why. Tell me what makes you innocent.”

            “Because I’m not the kind of sick bastard that murders people!”

            I closed my eyes, looking away, not wanting to see his expression. “You thought your target was Gam. You didn’t know that Olivia had gotten up. She was on the other side of the fire, so you only saw Gam move. She must have been ahead of Olivia, so Gam had turned the corner to the trash can before you could realize your mista-”

            “Fuck, Flynt! With how clever you’re acting, I’m betting _you’re_ the murderer. No innocent person could come up with such a fucking convoluted idea.”

            “I know you better than anyone else. You’re strong. You’re capable of inflicting the wounds that Olivia had.”

            “So are a shitload of other people here! That’s not evidence.”

            “You spoke with Gam more than most of us did. You probably… You probably thought she would be a good target.”

            “Shut your mouth.”

            “If you’d… killed the right person, it’s likely that we wouldn’t have suspected you.”

            “Shut the fuck up!”

            “…You used your skills to clean up the cafeteria. But you couldn’t get the blood out of your clothes, so you burned them.”

            “ _Anyone_ could have done that!”

            I finally opened my eyes and looked at him again, expression clear of emotion. “You’ve got that wrong.”

            His anger was quelled for a moment, pushed back by shock. His eyes widened. Here he was, fled into a dead end, the barrel of the gun in front of his eyes, the bullet roaring towards his head. All I could think of was that I was the one pulling the trigger.

            “You changed your clothes, Ryan,” I said softly. “Not because you felt like it, but because your pajamas were covered in blood. In fact, I believe you’d already changed when we woke up that morning. I just didn’t think it was important before.”

            For a moment, he was still. Then his hands reached out to grip the podium, as though he would crumple without its support. I’d never seen him act like this before. So afraid.

            “No one… was supposed to die,” he said, chest heaving. “I couldn’t get to sleep. I saw Gam get up, and she had that bottle of poison in her hand… I thought I would just go talk to her, just see what was up.

            “But then I started getting paranoid and I thought I better grab something to defend myself, just in case. And it was so fucking dark out… so I started getting nervous… and then there was someone right in front of me and I… But I missed, and I was so fucking scared… When I started thinking straight again, it was too late.”

            He lowered his head and pressed it against his knuckles, fingers digging into the podium. “I just wanted to talk to her. I don’t know what happened. I just wanted to talk to her…”

            Gam’s head was lowered in so such a way that her hair fell over her face, obscuring her features. The others were watching Ryan, silent, save for Haley. Her head had swiveled over to mine, expression grim. “I think you should go over what happened again. In case we missed anything.”

            “But Ryan already admitted that he did it,” I said. I just wanted out of here. I just wanted to be done. “Why would we need to-?”

            “Just in case, Flynt,” she said, eyes pleading. “Please. Please see if there’s any way that we’re wrong. We have to be wrong. _Please._ ”

            I nodded and looked away, heart in my mouth. Taking a deep breath, I said, “Here’s what happened…”

~ ~ ~ ~

            _He didn’t like sleepovers. He’d never liked sleepovers. Being unconscious in the same house as your friend didn’t make you any closer. The gesture was pointless, annoying, and entirely inconvenient. But if he didn’t participate, then he couldn’t be leader. He wouldn’t be able to show up Monodick or impress Flynt or keep the others safe. The only way to do that was by following along._

_So Ryan knew, when Gam came up with the idea of a sleepover, that he had no choice but to agree._

_He didn’t think there was any ulterior motive involved. In retrospect, he should have suspected that from the beginning. Gam had started acting reserved after they made their plans; her jokes were less frequent and her sass less glaringly obvious. But he hadn’t said anything, because he didn’t know these people and he didn’t want to. Getting to know them would only make things harder if one of them died._

_Which wasn’t going to happen, of course. That’s why he was here – to keep everyone safe._

_And thus, he hadn’t been able to get to sleep that night. He couldn’t shake the idea of someone going in for the kill. Every day that went by, every sunset that flew overhead, every 24 hours that passed without a murder felt to him like borrowed time. With the intensity of the bear’s words and the fear that they created, he knew that someone would inevitably feel obligated to try. When he was like this, lying open and exposed next to a fire, surrounded by 15 other students that could become his worst nightmare at any second, he was incapable of sleep._

_When Gam’s figure curled and twisted out of her sleeping bag, the silhouette against the light from the flames looked like a snake gearing up to strike. He regarded her in a measured silence. The poison bottle glinted in her hand, as though a precious gem. She clutched it like it was the reason she still breathed. Ryan thought his heart was beating too slowly; he was afraid, but it seemed as though the rest of his body hadn’t mustered up the energy to react. Her footsteps made soft, almost imperceptible crunches against the ground. Soon she wasn’t visible past the amber glow of the fire._

_He moved quickly. His head felt clear, but his actions didn’t feel rational. She had a weapon in her hands. She could fight; she could kill. He stalked forward, kneeling, not wanting to be seen. As he moved, he let his hand brush along the ground until it touched a smooth, warm rock next to the fire. He picked it up. Better than nothing._

_The afterimage of the fire against his retinas reduced his vision to a series of bright, multicolored circles. When his eyes adjusted enough to be useful, he saw her shadow standing along the side of the cafeteria, peering around the corner into the alley where the garbage cans were. What was she planning? He couldn’t tell. Was there someone back there? He had to stop her._

_He didn’t want her to scream, because it would wake the others. Then they would blame him, and she would get away. As he ran forward, movements deft as the air itself, he brought his hand up and covered her mouth. It didn’t occur to him to question the fact that she had both hands free, clutching at his wrist, digging nails into his skin – hadn’t she been holding poison before? It didn’t matter; he had to stop this._

_Gritting his teeth past the pain, he tried to pull her backwards. She hardly made a noise; he construed her silence as confidence, and it frightened him further. Her nails sunk deep into his skin, and he was forced to let go. She spun around to face him. Overcome with fear, he plunged the rock forward, striking blindly; there was a dull, sickening thump, and pieces of the rock fell away in his hands. He heard a weak noise escape her, betraying her pain – and then she ran._

_He chased her. Every shadow was a victim, every breath of air a culprit. Nothing could be trusted. She darted into the cafeteria. His head flooded with images of her returning, back into the firelight, knife in hand, and raising it up to gore the life out of him. Death and blood and violence was different in person. He couldn’t handle this._

_Inside, he found her leaning against the cool stone wall of the cafeteria, as though catching her breath. When he entered, she turned his way, hands raised to defend herself. He kept imagining the glint of a knife. Now, and only now, did his heart react: the blood soared in his veins and his pulse thumped more rapidly than even the pound of his footsteps. She backed up against the wall, as though to gain leverage. He was too afraid to hesitate. He rammed the rock into her chest. He wasn’t thinking._

_His arm instinctively curled around her as the weapon stuck, and only at that point, with the light flooding in on them from the open door, was he capable of seeing her face. Olivia. The wrong girl. The wrong reaction. One of her necklaces clicked against the small nub of rock that stuck out of her bloodied shirt. He dropped her in shock._

_A cough escaped her. There was blood all over his hands; his shirt. He’d failed. He’d failed to protect the others from the nightmare incarnate. From his own incompetence. Olivia was dying because he couldn’t stop himself from getting scared._

_The thing that haunted him the most was how merciless he then was. He could have pulled the weapon out, to quicken the bleeding and lessen her suffering, or stabbed her again so the light in her eyes would go out and she wouldn’t have to feel the pain anymore. But instead he just stood there, breath hitching in his throat, waiting until he couldn’t hear hers._

_It looked like she was sleeping. His mind was plagued with the image of her, curled up in her sleeping bag, quiet and safe. The blood marred the image. The blood drenched the image in the crippling effects of his own failure; made the incorrigible carnage of his actions visible to all who laid eyes upon it. Even after death, he had ruined her. He had ruined everything. Wracked with grief, he ran to the storage room. It was a small gesture, but the least he could do was make the crime scene clean. Then no one but himself would have to witness her like that, drenched in rivulets of what had once been her own life force._

_Bleach and water were hardly the appropriate tools for the job, but it was better than nothing. He was a mortician; he had practice. It took at least an hour – he couldn’t say for sure, because the passage of time seemed muted and distant in the consequence of his actions – but in the end, no blood remained save for that which was on her and himself. He poured the bloodied solvent into the field behind the clearing, where no one would have to worry about it._

_He collected up the flint pieces; put them and the bleach jug into the plastic bin, and tossed them all in the trash. As he did so, he saw the bottle of poison poking out of the garbage – it grounded him. His fear returned. He ripped off the bleach label._

_After returning to his cabin to change, he balled the clothes up and tossed them into the fire with the label. The flames flickered, as though resisting, and then flared, rushing forward to consume the offering. He thought of the mop he’d used. He was so, so afraid. He snapped it in half and tossed it into the fire as well._

_In the cafeteria, he lifted up her body with the greatest of care and gently put it back into place. She still looked so calm... but he knew that wouldn’t fool anyone. It didn’t even fool him. He didn’t want it to; he’d killed someone, and there was nothing he could do about it. But they would know what had happened. He couldn’t shake the fear of them knowing what had happened; of them hating him. He retrieved her sleeping bag from where it lay by the fire, zipped it up all the way, and put it around her legs. He adjusted the scene so that it looked like she’d been dragged. He didn’t even know why he was trying anymore. There was nothing else left._

_When he finally got back into his sleeping bag, it was almost dawn. There was still an hour or two before the morning announcement, but he didn’t sleep. He stayed awake and stared at the stars as they gradually faded out of view and the sky blushed pale yellow and clouds stood out against the color as though they didn’t belong and the yellow faded into blue and the blue surrounded him like an orb and he was trapped. Gam woke up first. He wondered how she’d managed to sleep, then realized that it had been easy for her – she was innocent._

_He followed her to the cafeteria, just like the others. He put on a mask of shock when they saw Olivia’s body; he forced his breaths to grow irregular and his eyes to go wide. On the inside, however, he felt nothing but shame. He wanted their pity, but he knew he didn’t deserve it. He wanted their remorse, but he knew that he wasn’t good enough of a human being to have earned it. Flynt passing out brought the pain back. Through his actions, he’d failed not only himself and all of the other students, but also his best friend._

_And then there was the trial. It loomed. Ryan tried to formulate a plan in his head in which he would explain to the others what had happened; that way, it could be easy on everyone involved. But no matter what scenario he imagined, they all ended in hatred. His failure was incomprehensible. He couldn’t find the words to tell anyone._

_Thoughts unclear and head muddled, Ryan had no choice but to proceed forward to the trial with the others. The creak of the elevator and the shuddering of its descent made him feel as though he were falling down a pit greater and more vast than the universe itself; an endless hole leading into infinite agony and despair._

_The doors opened._

~ ~ ~ ~

            When I had finished my explanation of events, the courtroom went silent. There was no sound save for that of my own breathing. I didn’t dare look at the others: I felt, somehow, as though I’d failed them. The first person to speak was Ryan.

            “I’m sorry,” he said, voice hoarse. “I fucked everything up.”

            “If only one of you had said something…” Ohanzee murmured. “Then all of this could have been avoided.”

            Monobear leaned forward in his throne suddenly. I’d almost forgotten that he was here. “Well, I think we’re all more than ready to vote. So press the buttons on your podium to select a culprit. Whoever has the most votes is our winner!”

            The result of course came up as Ryan.

            “Unanimous?” Monobear said at the results. “Well, it’s good to know that all of you can agree… because you’re right! Ryan did in fact kill Olivia. Good job, everyone.”

             All of the others were stepping away from their podiums now. I followed suit, feeling numb, as though I was hardly even in the room anymore. Ryan stood off to the side slightly, seemingly unsure as to what to do with himself. When he saw my eyes wander in his direction, his expression twisted. He looked ill. I glanced down.

            “Flynt? I didn’t… There’s no excuse…”

            I was quiet for a moment. “I forgive you.”

            “Wh-What?”

            “I…”

            Monobear stretched, motions exaggerated. “Alright! It’s punishment time!”

            “…Forgive you.”

            “Ryan Kinkaid has been found guilty,” the bear said. His tone was joyous, but his words dripped with menace. “Commencing execution: Last Wrongs.”

            I didn’t want to have to watch, but it felt like there was nothing I could do. Monobear wouldn’t let us go; not until we’d seen this deadly charade play out to its bitter end. Before any of us could react, a part of the rough stone wall slid inward, seemingly of its own accord, and out of it shot a metal clamp that secured itself around Ryan’s throat. His eyes went wide, and then the clamp pulled backwards at unexpected speed, dragging him through the opening in the wall. Unable to abandon him, I ran after – the others followed.

            We spilled out onto a large metal balcony overlooking what could only be described as an arena. The area was circular and dimly lit, save for one brilliant floodlight that illuminated the scene beneath us, where Ryan had been dragged. We were a good 20 or 30 feet above him, looking down.

            As we watched, the clamp retracted from his neck. He raised his head, looking startled, only to have a lid shut down on top of him. He was in a coffin. The top of it was clear glass, so we could still see his face; his wide eyes; his hands pressed against the lid.

            A procession of Monobears emerged from the side of the arena. They had their heads bowed, as though in mourning, but the garish grins permanently planted on their faces made it all too clear that they weren’t here to send him off in peace. They surrounded the coffin and hoisted it up on their shoulders, walking forward, all in unison. As I watched, stomach twisting, they approached a hole in the ground and dropped Ryan in. Even he, trapped and marooned in the coffin, could likely tell what was coming next.

            Each one hefted a shovel and stabbed it into the sand, then began to pour it over the coffin. I pressed my teeth together until I thought they would break, desperate to look away but unable to avert my eyes. With a muffled snap that made my head hurt, I saw a series of small holes click open within the coffin. The speed of digging increased. Sand began to pour in, pooling around him.

            Ryan’s head turned frantically, looking for an escape that wasn’t there. Finally his eyes wandered upwards and found mine. We stared. I couldn’t look away. He gave me a weak, wry smile, as though he’d just told a joke that I couldn’t remember. He closed his eyes. The sand engulfed his head.

            Seconds later, the Monobears had finished burying him. I fancied that I could hear him suffocating in the sand; feel his life dwindling away. My head hurt. I felt like I was burning, choking on smoke and flames. I needed to get away – so I ran.

            The others turned around in surprise as I bolted from the arena. Someone shouted my name, but I wasn’t listening anymore. My entire body felt hot, to its very core, as though I were burning from the inside out. The elevator shuddered upwards as I ran inside and slammed against the back wall. The machine could go back down to pick up the others. If it didn’t… well, too bad. I didn’t care anymore. Nothing mattered anymore.

            Outside, the air was cool and crisp and cut into my heated skin like knives. I knew where I wanted to go; now it was just a matter of keeping my vision clear enough to get there. I rounded the corner into the clearing and darted into the gift shop, down the hallway towards the storage room. At the last second I turned, pushing the door into the men’s bathroom out of my way with a brutality that I didn’t know I possessed.

            I looked around – just as I had hoped, there were no security cameras. Here was a place where I couldn’t be watched. Here was a place where I could finally allow myself to show weakness. I went into one of the stalls in the corner. The place was so far into disrepair that there wasn’t even any water in the toilet, and a thin layer of dust covered the rim. I pressed myself into the corner, between the wall and the plumbing. Safe. Away from all this madness.

            I laid my head on my knees and cried myself to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The "climax inferences" are essentially flashbacks from the POV of the killer. Obviously Flynt didn't experience that flashback himself, but as it summarizes the murder as well as giving you more detail, I thought it would be a good way of replacing a lot of unnecessary repetition. 
> 
> The "joke" here is that Olivia's death plays out very similarly to Lucy's death at the end of Assassin's Creed Brotherhood. And Olivia and Enoch were talking about Assassin's Creed before she was murdered. And Gam's fake name is a reference to the MLP version of Assassin's Creed. So it's funny. You know, in that stupid way.
> 
> The other "joke" here is Ryan's motive. His motive was to keep someone from dying. I think the rest of the joke is self-explanatory. 
> 
> A small anecdote on Ryan's character:  
> I really started liking him while I was writing, and as a result I began projecting a lot of things onto his character that probably have very little to do with the real Ryan. This is one of the reasons he appears to be really sentimental during his POV. The other reason is because his character deserved some much-needed retribution, and this was the best way for me to give it: by applying some purity to his actions. I'm quite intrigued to see how real!Ryan responds to what is essentially a 180 version of reverse character development.
> 
> I imagine the majority of chapters will be similar in length; between 5-6 parts long.


	7. 2.1 "All Happened Before"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beginning of Chapter 2.

CHAPTER 2: THE BLAZE

(Ab)normal Days Part 1

            When I woke up, I couldn’t remember where I was. The icy air cut through my jacket without any effort, leaving me shaky and exposed. My teeth clicked together audibly and my bones ached from sitting in such an uncomfortable position for so long. I’d never been so cold before in my life. It occurred to me, as though from a great distance, that I could have died in my sleep. I tried to muster up a sense of concern at the realization that I didn’t even care, but nothing would come. There was nothing left.

            Yes… The bathroom. Where I’d fallen asleep. Everything around me was white – the walls, the stall door and its peeling paint, the cracked tile, the parts of the toilet that were visible beneath a thick accumulation of dust. One whole section of the floorboards were whiter than the rest; almost translucent, as though they weren’t even there. I got up, muscles aching in protest, and nudged the door open. It creaked, long and low. Shaking from the cold, I stamped out of the bathroom and into the hallway.

            It wasn’t any warmer out there. The entire gift shop was unlit and dim, specks of dust just barely visible from the light coming in through the windows. I didn’t want to go outside, where I might see the others, but I convinced myself to keep going because the fire would be there. I thought I could almost feel my joints twisting in their sockets, like chunks of ice. As much as I hated this, I had to get warm.

            The fire was indeed ready and waiting for me, burning high in the center of the clearing. It was apparent that someone had been paying attention to it recently. I couldn’t see anyone nearby, so I walked up to stand in the heat, watching the cinders spark above the highest point of the flames. I almost immediately felt warmer – but it didn’t make me feel any better.

            I heard footsteps crunch towards me, though I didn’t look up until the person spoke. “You’re late.”

            It was Gam, her tone sobering. She had dark gray lines beneath her eyes from a lack of sleep, hat askew on her head, and lips were twisted into a bitter grimace. Somehow, strangely, I found that I couldn’t bring myself to blame her. She’d tried her best. There was nothing she could have done. “Hi,” I said.

            She studied my face for a moment, then looked down. “You’re late,” she said again. “Where were you?”

            As childish as it was, I didn’t want to reveal my hiding place. Who knew what was going to happen now? I might need it again. “I had to… go away for a while. To think.”

            “And did you have some stunning revelation that’s going to save us all?” she growled, voice dripping with her old sarcasm.

            “No. I wish.”

            “Me too,” she muttered, then turned on her heel to face the cafeteria. “Come on, the others are waiting.”

            “For me?” I said, surprised.

            She glanced backwards. “Sort of, yeah. Monobear made an announcement saying that he opened one of the gates in the fence. So we’d have a new area to explore, or some bullshit like that.”

            “I’m so excited I can hardly stand it,” I grumbled.

            She grunted in response; a low, almost apologetic snicker. She hated this as much as I did. “Well, hey. Maybe we’ll find a way out.”

            “Yeah, maybe,” I said, but I could tell that neither of us really believed it. I was beginning to think that we would never get to leave this place.

            I was relieved to find that Olivia’s body was gone. There was, in fact, no trace of her at all. If I didn’t think about it too much, I could almost trick myself into thinking that she’d never been there in the first place. Briefly I wondered where the mastermind had moved the bodies to – unless they’d burned them, perhaps? But wouldn’t we have smelled it? I shook myself, not wanting to think about it anymore, and glanced over to see the other students clustered around the tables, quiet. A few shot me weak smiles – mostly apologetic – but the majority of them avoided eye contact altogether. I thought about how I’d fled the courtroom last night; how I’d taken the elevator and abandoned them. I couldn’t help but feel guilty.

            “Now everyone’s here,” Enoch murmured, his expression twisted into one of rage; one that didn’t match his words at all. He didn’t mention the fact that there were only 14 of us now. No one did.

            “Gam debriefed you on what Monobear said, right?” Dani asked. Even she seemed subdued. I nodded.

            “So… what should we do?” Ohanzee said. “Um, split up into groups or something?”

            “That sounds like a good idea, I guess,” Pamela mumbled.

            Haley was looking down at her ElectroID. “The new area appears to be to the East. I suppose we should just explore, as long as we’re careful.”

            I followed the others at a distance, waiting until they gradually split up into groups before making any move of my own. I was still more than a little sensitive about what had happened last night, so I wasn’t exactly in the mood to hang out with anyone. Following a wide path away from the clearing, we eventually reached the fence. One of the gates had indeed been pulled open, revealing more of the path beyond. At length we found ourselves at the edge of an expansive forest of oak and pine trees. The trees were clustered close together, and I couldn’t see an end in either direction. After a moment of hesitation, the other students divided into their respective groups and slipped into the trees. I waited until everyone was out of sight before proceeding forward, sticking to the path.

            The trees quickly closed in around me, but it wasn’t too terribly dark. Patches of light shone through the gaps in the branches, speckling the path and illuminating chunks of roots. I was slightly concerned about getting lost, but it quickly became apparent that anything worth seeing could be found by following the path. After a while, it branched, so I went to the right and walked until I came to a break in the trees.

            I was surprised to find a silo nestled within an overgrowth of grass in the area. I must have been taking my time getting over here, because Pamela, Ohanzee, and Jae were already there, leaning against the silo or sitting in the grass beside it as though they had been there for quite some time. I walked over. “Hey guys.”

            “Oh! Um, hi Flynt,” Pamela said. “How are you?”

            “Fine, I guess,” I said. “Any idea why there’s a silo out here?”

            “No idea,” Jae muttered. “I climbed up to the top, and there’s water in it, so I guess this was some reserve supplies for the campground or something.”

            Ohanzee blinked and stretched. He was resting against the side of the silo, looking tired. “It’s kinda weird, but maybe it’ll be useful. Maybe Monobear will stop giving us water or something.”

            “Please,” Pamela murmured. “Don’t even _joke_ about that.”

            I glanced up at the silo. The exterior was a dark, pale brown, and much of the wood seemed to be in various stages of rot. I couldn’t help but feel concerned that it might come down on us at any moment. Knowing that I probably sounded somewhat stand-off-ish, I nevertheless said, “See you guys around,” and turned to walk back onto the path.

            “Yeah, see you Flynt,” Jae said. I thought I could hear concern in his voice, but I didn’t stop to respond.

            After a while, the path led me to another clearing, this one graced with the presence of a large stone building, squat and stocky. There were two entrances, neither of which had the luxury of a door. Wandering inside revealed that they were public restrooms – the sort with metal toilets. Like most everything else on the campground, the plumbing wasn’t working and the sinks were caked with dirt. After a short period of exploration, I found Jason, Neil, and Calise hovering in front of a row of stalls.

            “Hey,” Neil said as I came up. “We were just talking.”

            “About what?” I asked.

            Jason shrugged. “Not much. Nothing relevant, anyway. I mean, this is an abandoned fucking bathroom. You’ve covered everything that’s important just by looking at it. There isn’t anything _to_ discuss.”

            “Maybe Flynt found something interesting?” Calise suggested.

            I shook my head. “Jason’s got this one more or less right.”

            Neil glanced around. “Still. Pretty creepy.”

            “I guess,” I said. Truth be told, the scenery so far _did_ seem strangely eerie – but I had yet to figure out why. Something about it was familiar; that much was certain.

            As I set off along the path again, I considered briefly how inconvenient the distance between each location was. It took me several minutes to walk to and from each place, meaning that this forest was fairly sizeable. I was almost relieved by the fact that we had yet to find anything useful; it would keep us from having to come back here too often.

            Next up was a small pond set off to the side of the path, clear blue water glittering in a faint pool of sunlight. Enoch and Gigi were standing at the edge of the water, studying it. Enoch was knelt, one hand drifting back and forth in the water and stirring up little eddies that arched from his fingertips like a miniature tide, and Gigi was hovering over him, one hand pressed to her chin.

            “What’s going on?” I asked.

            Gigi turned her head to look at me, the rim of her goggles glinting in the sunlight. “We were just trying to figure out how deep the water is, you see,” she said. “It doesn’t look all that far to the bottom, but these sort of things can be deceptive. Like _The Chronicles of Narnia_ , in _The Voyage of the Dawn Treader._ Did you ever read that?”

            “I don’t think so,” I said, frowning. “If I have, I don’t remember.”

            Her gaze swiveled over to the water. “In the book, they find an island with a cave that has a pond like this one. It is filled with gold statues and weapons. The water doesn’t look too deep, and one of the men puts their sword in it to try to touch the bottom. He can’t reach it, however, and suddenly his sword becomes too heavy to carry – he drops it and it falls to the bottom. They soon figure out that the water turns everything it touches into solid gold – even people.”

            I glanced over at Enoch’s finger. “Well, it’s not like that’s going to happen here.”

            “No,” she said, smiling slightly. “But even so, it would be good to know how deep it is. And I thought the comparison was interesting, anyway. I think I’ll go try to find a stick or branch we can use, Enoch.”

            He didn’t say anything, fingertips drifting through the water. As Gigi walked off, I came up behind him, staring down into the pond. It was perfectly circular, with a circumference about the length of a car. Enoch was glowering down at it, lips pressed in a thin line. “Are you alright?” I ventured.

            “Of course I’m not fucking alright,” he snapped. “I can’t handle this fucking shit anymore. People died, Flynt.”

            “I know,” I said.

            He was quiet for a moment. “You ran off. After the execution.”

            “Ryan was my best friend,” I said.

            “It wasn’t right,” he said. “That shit wasn’t supposed to happen.”

            I gritted my teeth. “Yeah. Gam was going to-”

            “No,” he growled. “That’s not what I mean. I mean _it wasn’t supposed to fucking happen._ She wasn’t supposed to die. She couldn’t have died.”

            “What do you mean?” I asked.

            “Forget it,” he said. I could hear leaves crunching behind us; I turned to see Gigi return, towing an unwieldy, knotted branch behind her, grinning triumphantly.

            She handed the front end of it to me. “Would you like to do the honors?”

            I heaved it forwards until the other end dragged across the dirt and slumped into the pool, scattering a few leaves onto the surface. The stick was considerably long, but it nevertheless failed to reach the bottom until I was up to almost my elbows in the water, holding it out beneath me. “Maybe the length of two people,” I said, getting to my feet again to pull the branch out.

            “Perhaps 10 or 11 feet then?” Gigi mused. “That’s fairly deep.”

            “It’s kind of cool,” I said. “A pool in the middle of the forest like this.”

            She nodded down at Enoch, her frown a sympathetic one. “Distracting, too.”

            “Not necessarily a bad thing,” I said, then looked away. “I’ll see you guys around.”

            “Mm.”

            As I walked along the next part of the path, the trees gradually began to back away, circling the area in a ring. After a short time, I saw a stone, dome-like tunnel covering one section of the path. It was shaded and cool underneath, shadows stretching along the edge of the stone. Near the other side, I saw Dani and Buck walking together, talking in hushed tones. I came up from behind, trying not to be too quiet, and said, “Hey guys.”

            They both wheeled and stopped walking. Buck glowered at me, his eyes glittering in the dim lighting. “Hey,” Dani said.

            “Nice moves last night,” Buck growled. “I didn’t know you could move any faster than a paraplegic stumble.”

            She nudged him. He swiveled hawk-eyes over to glare at her, annoyed, but fell silent. “You find anything interesting?” she asked.

            “Not much,” I said, then glanced above me. “You guys know what’s up with this tunnel?”

            She shrugged. “The path seems unnaturally wide. It was probably some sort of service route for trucks with supplies.”

            “Then maybe we’ll find a way out if we follow it,” I suggested.

            “Nice try, genius, but we already looked,” Buck said. “It leads to a gate in the fence. In case your IQ of 20 isn’t catching on already, the gate’s locked. And the fence? You guessed it, electric.”

            “Damn,” I said. I was too tired to care about his verbal assault.

            “We’re going to go look around some more,” Dani said, staring at me. It was a hint. They wanted me to leave.

            “Good luck,” I murmured, not wanting to get involved, then doubled back on the path to find a direction that I hadn’t gone in yet.

            It took some time, considering I’d already traipsed around most of the woods, but I ultimately found a trail that I hadn’t already gone down. At first I thought that it was empty, with nothing too special to see save for more trees, but then I saw an old, abandoned truck along the side of the road. Surprised, I wandered closer. It appeared to be an old U-Haul truck. The picture on the side was scraped and damaged, much of the paint having peeled away or faded. Over it someone had spray-painted, in bright, messy pink, _East wind coming! Watch out!_.I was so busy staring at it that I jumped in shock when Max’s head poked around the corner of the interior.

            “Don’t scare me like that!” I yelped.

            He blinked. “Sorry. I heard someone walking over here. Isn’t this interesting?”

            “The U-Haul?” I said, glancing at the graffiti again. “Yeah. Do you know what it’s doing here?”

            “No idea,” he said, but it’s filled with all sorts of different things. Bed frames, fire supplies, mattresses… even an old clock.”

            “Odd,” I said.

            “You can check it out if you want.”

            He went back inside before I could respond. I turned the corner to see a ramp leading into the back of the truck. He wasn’t lying – it was filled with everything he’d mentioned, plus a surplus of other objects. Max was busy inspecting a dresser. Gam was standing near the entrance, leaning on a mattress, holding case of some sort in one hand.

            “What’s that?” I asked.

            She looked up. “Hey Flynt.” She held it out for me to inspect. “It looks like a video game case. But the label’s all damaged and the CD’s been ruined.”

            I looked down at it. The label was almost completely blank, save for a few scratches, and a message written on it in pink Sharpie: _Games rot your brain. Soon you won’t be able to remember who you are!_ Opening it up, I saw that the disc’s label had been completely blacked out, and the other side was so scraped that it looked like a series of spider webs. “The disc is pretty small,” I said. “Maybe GameCube? That’s pretty old though.”

            “It’s possible,” Gam frowned. “I wish Enoch was here.”

            “I’m not sure if he’d be able to tell,” I said. “I mean, the only special features about this is the size of the disc. Sure, that narrows down the results, but it could still be anything.”

            She made a face, narrowing her eyes, then took it from me with a small smile. “Ah well. It’s not like it matters anyway.”

            “Yeah.” I grinned. “It doesn’t.”

            After poking around for a bit, I exited the U-Haul and turned the corner to see Haley leaning against the opposite side of it, almost completely out of sight. She was looking around, eyebrows knit together, a frown on her face. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

            She looked a little startled to see me, but quickly smiled in response. “I’m fine, don’t worry. I was just thinking about this new area that we’ve been given access to.”

            “What about it?” I said.

            “Don’t you think it seems… familiar?”

            I frowned. “Yeah, actually. That occurred to me earlier. What does it remind you of?”

            She hesitated briefly. “Uh… Well, it’s silly.”

            “Tell me.”

            “ _Slender_ ,” she said. “You know, the game about Slenderman. Have you ever played it?”

            “Yeah,” I said slowly, then looked down in thought. “Hmm… Yeah, you’re right. There’s a tunnel, an abandoned car, the bathrooms… even a silo. That’s kind of weird.”

            “And it all takes place in a forest,” she said with a nod. “I know I’m probably just being paranoid, but it really does creep me out.”

            “Me too,” I said with a grimace.

            “A white faceless man in a suit… in some lore he even has tentacles,” she thought aloud. “No one knows how he kills his victims, you know.”

            I nodded, then said, in an attempt to lighten the subject, “Most everyone has a Slenderman phase, you know. It’s pretty well-known.”

            She smiled lightly. “I’ll see you around, Flynt.”

            “Yeah.”

~ ~ ~ ~

            There was nothing else of importance to see in the forest. I spent most of the rest of the day exploring with the others, seeing if there was anything else to find, but our search came up fruitless. We were still caged in by fences and electricity, and still without any leads about what was going on. It was as though nothing had changed.

            We all returned to the clearing before the Night Time announcement. There was some talk of continuing our sleepover, but in the end everyone agreed that it would be best if we just went back to using our cabins. Part of me was worried that I’d never get to sleep, too plagued by the deaths of our friends, but in the end I fell into unconsciousness.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In lieu of Season 3, "East wind coming! Watch out!" may seem like a Sherlock reference, but it actually has considerably older roots than that. The source in question is the opening to Mary Poppins. I'll let it speak for itself:  
> Winds in the east,  
> Mist coming in,  
> Like something is brewing  
> About to begin.  
> Can't put my finger  
> On what lies in store,  
> But I feel what's to happen  
> All happened before.


	8. 2.2 "A Sermon"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Free time events! Also, a motive.

(Ab)normal Days Part 2

            The next day, after breakfast, I walked around aimlessly for a time before deciding that I might as well hang out with someone. It wasn’t as though I could lose anything through social interaction – well, besides everything. But I was too bored to simply sit around and do nothing, so I began looking for someone to talk with.

            I found Max outside of the silo, picking at the grass with his headphones on. As I approached, he pulled one away from his ear. “What’s up?”

            I shrugged. “Just looking for someone to hang out with.”

            “Okay. You want to listen to my music? I’ve got some pretty cool shit.”

            I listened to music with Max for a little while. It could hardly be described as eventful, but I still felt like we’d gotten a little closer. Afterwards, leaning against the side of the silo, I watched as Max fiddled with the cord to his headphones, trying to wrap it up. “You don’t have to stop listening to music,” I said quickly. “I don’t mind.”

            He paused, glancing at me. “No. It’s rude. I mean, we were going to talk, weren’t we?”

            “Well, um, I guess.”

            He slung one half of his headphones into his pocket, the other part hanging at his side. “Then I’m not going to listen to music for a bit. So what do you want to talk about?”

            I shifted, at a loss for words. “I’m… not sure.”

            For a moment he looked vaguely annoyed, but the expression dissipated as he began to talk. It seemed as though he was more annoyed with the lack of a subject than he was at me. “Well, how about we set this up like a game? I ask you a question, then you ask me one.”

            “Okay,” I said, watching him. “You start.”

            He narrowed his eyes for a moment, jaw flexing as he glanced around the forest, then said, “If we weren’t trapped like this, would you like it here?”

            I considered it for a moment. “Um… Yeah, I think I would. I don’t really go camping that often, but… It would be kind of nice, I guess.”

            “Now you ask a question,” he said.

            “What’s your favorite place here?” I tried.

            “I like this forest,” he said almost immediately. “I’ve always liked forests. Something about them seems… correct, you know? The world wouldn’t be right without trees.” He was quiet for a moment, then said, “What do you think of the other students?”

            I shrugged. “Some of them seem quite nice. Others… aren’t really interested in making friends, I think. But for the most part I like everyone I’ve talked to. Uh, were you excited to go to Hope’s Peak Academy?”

            He narrowed his eyes. “I think so. Probably. I mean, who wouldn’t be? But my memories are all jumbled about it. Everything was so hectic during that time. Filled with excitement and planning… I can hardly remember much of it anymore. I suppose that’s another reason that I believe Monobear when he says that he stole our memories.”

            “What are your other reasons?”

            “Hey, my turn, remember?” he said, grinning. “What’s it like being the ‘lucky’ student?”

            I made a face, but I wasn’t offended. “It really isn’t anything special. If anything, it’s a bit disappointing. I mean, it’s not like I have an actual talent. I just… get lucky sometimes. I hardly even understand it myself. If anything, it’s kind of stupid. Now tell me what the other reasons are.”

            He looked away. “Well, I suppose there’s no avoiding it. I’ve forgotten my title, you see. I can’t remember my talent.”

            “To be honest with you, I had considered that that was the case,” I said, watching him. “It’s a shame. I’m sorry about that.”

            “It’s okay. I’ll figure it out. What are you going to do when we get out of here?”

            The question was unexpectedly optimistic, but I didn’t comment on it. “Well… Try to get in contact with Hope’s Peak, I guess. And probably the police too. And my family, of course. Everyone must be really worried about me.”

            We were both quiet for a moment. “Your turn,” he said.

            “I know, I’m thinking,” I murmured. “Um… I don’t know. Do you have a girlfriend?”

            His face lapsed through several different emotions, eventually settling on something that I could only describe as being very distinctly and frighteningly bitter. “No,” he said, the word hard in his mouth, like he was trying to break it between his teeth. There were those raven eyes again; it was as though he were trying to cut me in half simply by looking at me.

            “I’m sorry, shouldn’t have asked,” I said, though I wasn’t sure why.

            “It’s okay,” he said, but now he looked strangely morose. “I’m going to go do some other things, Flynt. I’ll talk with you later.”

            “Right.”

            I watched him go in concern. Was he one of those people who was sensitive about his relationships? Maybe he’d had a bad experience recently and didn’t like talking about it as a result. Maybe he’d just never dated someone before. They all seemed like logical answers, but something told me that his problem was a lot more complicated than that. Deep in thought, I decided that I’d have to try pressing the subject further at a later date.

~ ~ ~ ~

            Later on, as the day was slipping into afternoon, I found myself wanting to talk with someone again. But, even after looking around and seeing what every other student was doing, I inevitably ended up trailing back to the information center. Through the single, dirty window, I could see Buck sitting on the floor, his eyes half closed and his head laid back against the wall, as though asleep. I didn’t actually want to talk to him… but I _did_ want to know his story. Figuring there was no way to avoid it, I gently pushed the door open.

            He looked up as I entered, and it was quite clear that his sleeping appearance was nothing more than a farce. He narrowed his eyes. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

            “I could ask the same of you,” I murmured. “It’s abandoned, after all.”

            He stared. I waited. He continued to stare. “I just wanted to hang out with someone,” I said.

            He regarded me with an expression that wasn’t quite annoyance, didn’t really reach the level of surprise, and only bordered on acceptance. “Fine, whatever,” he said. “We can go looking for some good hiding places.”

            I spent some time trying to hide from the others with Buck. I could certainly see where he got his title from; he noticed small and secluded places to sneak into that I would have overlooked in an instant. I never wanted to get stuck playing a game of hide-and-seek with him. I suppose we got a little closer – though he didn’t seem to enjoy having me around.

            Sitting with him outside of the cafeteria, I watched the flames jump in the firepit. “You’re really good at hiding, you know,” I said.

            He turned his gaze sideways to glower at me. “I don’t need compliments from your second rate ass, thank you very much.”

            I plowed on regardless. “Getting into a prestigious school for being a recluse is honestly quite the accomplishment. It’s really impressive when you think about it.”

            “Jesus,” he growled. “What is this, a gay shota anime? Am I your senpai now? Shut your mouth.”

            Was it just me, or was he somehow being more aggressive than usual? Maybe, for whatever reason, this was a sore subject of his. Picking up the act, I said, “So does that make you the one-dimensional love interest who only has one character trait? Or can you do something besides hide?”

            He sneered, then looked away. I thought he wasn’t going to respond, but then he said, “I like marine biology. It’s… interesting.”

            “What do you mean?” I asked.

            His shoulders stiffened. It was strange, considering how imposing he usually was. “I like animals. A lot. All kinds of animals. Even the extinct ones. They’re so much… cooler than humans, you know? Like the human race just had to go and take over the planet and fill it with all of this shit and they’re not even doing anything good in return. Not to mention, most of them are impossible to talk to and just piss me off anyway. Like you. Animals are way better.”

            I stared at him in silence for a brief moment. “That’s… a far cry from being a recluse.”

            “Well you said it yourself,” he snapped. “Or did you forget already? Being a recluse is just one-dimensional.”

            I grinned slightly.

            He made a face, still not looking at me. “But marine biology is some really cool shit. There’s some stuff in the sea that would fuckin’ blow your mind, you know? Shit that’s way cooler and more fucked up than a talking robo-bear. I’ve been studying it. ‘Thought I’d maybe get a degree or something.”

            I stared, a little surprised. This seemed… strange. Why was the Super High School Level Recluse so interested in things that had nothing to do with his title? I thought of Dani, suddenly, and opened my mouth to mention her, but then closed it again. Who knew how he would react if I brought her up? It would be best if I let him have control of the conversation.

            “You gaping like a fucking fish now?” He glared at me, critical. “Is that a new talent to supplement the whole useless ‘luck’ thing?”

            I glared. “No. I just wasn’t sure how to respond.”

            “Yeah, I get it,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I know you’re too stupid to catch on to this science shit. It just rolls right over your head.”

            My eyes narrowed further, but I couldn’t avoid grinning. Even if he was an asshole, Buck _was_ pretty funny. I wondered if he would be okay with me talking to him more often. Still thinking about the odd contradiction in his interests, I waved him goodbye and set off towards my cabin – it was beginning to get pretty late.

            I had planned to go straight to bed, but suddenly the loudspeakers flared to life. I frowned in concern; it wasn’t 10 PM yet. Monobear’s voice hummed in my ear: “Attention, attention! All students should, eh, gather in the cafeteria immediately! Your headmaster has a very important announcement to make.”

            My stomach twisted in concern – what did he want from us now? The last thing we needed was more of that bear and his insane desire to control us. To make us kill. Worried and caught off-guard, I hurried to the cafeteria to see what was going on.

            All 14 of us met up to see Monobear sitting on one of the cafeteria tables, swinging a lantern back and forth in one paw. Garish, pale blue shadows shrank and stretched, back and forth, across the walls. It reminded me of the Poe spirits in _Legend of Zelda_ : the rapid clank of the handle; the unsteady pulse of the blue orb it emitted; the raw, childish laughter…

            “Alright, listen up you bastards, and we can make this quick,” he said. “Usually I’d wait another day or two to do this sort of thing, but I’m too impatient for that kind of luxury these days. I want someone _dead_! I want some blood to pour, yeah? So I’m giving you a motive!”

            “What do you mean?” Jason asked, eyes narrowed.

            “Some extra incentive!” he said. “Another reason for you to kill. Trust me, you’re going to like this one.”

            Before anyone could question him further, he leaned back and placed the lantern in his lap, as though he were about to give a sermon – or maybe tell a ghost story. “The motive this time around is going to be a little change to the rules. Say you’ve been _aching_ to kill someone, but you don’t think you can do it alone – well, I have just the solution for you! Anyone who aids a culprit will get to live if the culprit succeeds.”

            “ _What?_ ” Calise said, blinking rapidly.

            “You heard me!” the bear purred. “If the culprit can successfully get through the school trial without getting caught, then anyone who aids him or her will not receive a punishment. They get to leave with the culprit.”

            I swallowed. It felt like my head was spinning. Would someone really buy into this? Aid a killer, just so they could get out of here? I felt a sudden pang of distrust course through my system. If someone died, that meant that there was more than one culprit to worry about.

            “What _ever_ ,” Dani snapped, glaring critically at Monobear. “As if that’s going to get us to do anything.”

            “In your dreams, bear,” Gam added, nodding seriously. “No way am I going to spill anyone’s blood.”

            “But you already did,” Buck said.

            “Well, it’s not like she actually _spilled_ blood, perse,” Gigi murmured.

            “I’m going to go to bed now,” Pamela said.

            Monobear’s grin seemed to widen. “Good idea! Really, all of you, get some rest. You’ve got a lot to think about with this motive on the table, y’know? Better watch your backs, and all that. Upupu!”

~ ~ ~ ~

            I entered the cafeteria the next day to find almost everyone split into groups, save for a few stragglers who sat alone and didn’t seem interested in interacting with the others. Looking around the room, part of me could almost imagine that one of those groups was planning a murder. It made my stomach twist, so I tried not to think about it. Gigi had made breakfast, as she often did. Sometimes other students did it, or sometimes we all made our own food, but today Gigi had gotten up early, so she had gone ahead and prepared the meal. Today the selection consisted of eggs and pancakes. Paper plate in tow, I chose a seat across from Max and began to eat.

            By the looks of things, he had finished breakfast some time ago. He glanced in my direction as I sat down. “Good morning.”

            “Good morning,” I said, swallowing. “How are you?”

            He considered the question as though it had more weight than the small talk it was meant to be. “I’ve been better, I’d say. I’ve been thinking about Monobear’s motive.”

            “Me too,” I admitted, grimacing. “You don’t really think that people will go for it, do you?”

            “I hope not,” he said. “But there’s no real way to know. We don’t know anything about these students, after all.”

            There was a sudden screech of metal from the back of the room as someone stood up.

            I turned to see Dani on her feet, hands balled into fists and a look of rage planted on her face. It seemed like she was ready to beat someone to death. The only person next to her was Buck, whose fork now hovered above his plate as he stared at her in startled surprise. Max and I exchanged a glance.

            “I’m sick of this _shit_ , Buck!” she snapped. “I told you to knock it off.”

            “I was just trying to talk to you, okay? Why are you so defensive of these” – he gestured at the rest of us – “ _assholes_? They don’t give a fuck about you.”

            “And that’s your excuse for being a dick to everyone? That’s not good enough.”

            “At least I’m approaching this situation like an intelligent human being instead of pretending that I can _pray_ my way out of here.”

            “At least _I’m_ trying something other than being a dick!”

            “At least I don’t have my head up my ass!”

            “Shut up. You’re the one who refuses to work with anyone else! I just want everyone to be friends.”

            He looked disgusted. “ _Wow._ ‘My name’s Dani and I’m going to bring everyone together! I’m such a great and positive person! I’m the _fucking messiah!_ ’ Shut your mouth, you stupid bitch, you’re no better than me.”

            She drew her hand up and smacked him so hard that he fell out of his seat. There was a great smash of plastic as his plate slid out from underneath him and joined him on the floor. Eggs scattered across the ground and over his jeans. “Fuck-!” He sat up on one elbow to glare at her, hand pressed to his cheek. “What the fuck was that?”

            Dani’s face was screwed up as though she were about to burst into tears. “Do me a favor,” she hissed, “and don’t talk to me anymore.”

            She had fled through the door before anybody else could react. Everyone in the cafeteria turned to look at Buck as he got to his feet, swiping egg off of his jeans and muttering profanities under his breath. His cheek was bright red and looked like it might bruise. He turned sideways to glower at us. “What the fuck are you looking at? Don’t you have food to shove in your fat faces?”

            Within the next few seconds, he had left as well. My gaze flicked in Max’s direction. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, opting to shrug. “Someone should clean up that mess.”

            I hesitated, then nodded. “Good idea.”

            Pamela stood up, walking past us on her way to the door. She paused next to our table. “I’m going to go talk to Dani. I’m worried about her.”

            “Thanks, Pam,” I said. “I’m worried too.”

~ ~ ~ ~

            Later on that morning, I sought out to find Dani. I knew that she probably wasn’t interested in talking with anyone at that moment – least of all myself – but I still felt obligated to try and hunt her down. It seemed as though my search would be a fruitless one, however. I’d walked around the whole campsite, but she was nowhere to be seen. I was pacing through the forest when a voice met my ears.        “…Are you looking for something?”

            I glanced up in surprise to see Dani above me, just hidden behind the flat, bladed leaves of an oak tree. She was curled up between two boughs, feet pressed against the bark. “Yeah,” I said. “You, actually.”

            She wrinkled her nose. “What for?”

            “I just wanted to hang out with you.”

            I was certain that she would refuse, but after a moment of hesitation, she said, “Okay. We can go tree climbing.”

            I spent some time climbing through the various trees in the forest with Dani. Even in a skirt she was pretty quick, and I often had to rush to keep up with her. After a while, we stopped in a large oak tree overlooking the abandoned bathrooms and rested on the boughs, breathing somewhat heavily. I felt like I’d gotten a little closer to her.

            I was worried about starting a conversation, considering what had happened with Buck, but eventually I forced myself to speak. We could probably get along alright, so long as we avoided that particular subject. “So… Super High School Level Blogger, right?”

            She glanced over and nodded. “Pretty cool, yeah?”

            I nodded back. “What’s your URL?”

            With a sweep of her hand, she gestured at her shirt, grinning lightly. “ _Candyredterezii_. Two i’s. I’d tell you to hit me up, but… Well, we don’t exactly have internet right now.”

            “Good point,” I said, smiling back. “So what’s it like, having the title of blogger?”

            She pressed a finger to her lips in thought. “Hmm. A lot of anon hate, obviously. But most of my followers are really cool, too, so it all kind of balances out in the end. I really like blogging, you know? It’s a nice way to pass the time. Or waste it, depending on the situation.”

            “I have a Tumblr too, but I’m probably not nearly as good at it as you are. I’m _Atarikomaeda._ ”

            She gently nudged my shoulder. “Well, hey. If we ever get out of here, maybe we can do the whole ‘mutual follow’ thing.”

            “Yeah,” I said.

            “Interesting URL, by the way. Where’d you get it from?”

            I shrugged, looking away. “I decided on it a couple years ago. I can’t really remember what I got it from anymore.”

            She grinned slightly. “Well, I think it’s cool.”

            For a moment, both of us were silent. I struggled to think of something else we could talk about, but nothing came to mind. Feeling like this conversation had come to its end, I was more than a little surprised when Dani spoke up again. “So uh… You remember what I was saying before, right? About Buck?”

            “Um,” I swallowed. “Are you sure you want to talk about this?”

            She made a face, but nodded. “We know each other pretty well, right? I should talk to someone about this.”

            I hesitated, unsure of how to proceed forward.

            “See,” she murmured, “I think he’s really nice. And if I talked with him again, I really think I could get him to work with the rest of us. But… I’ve really started acting like a dick since I began hanging out with him. I’d like to apologize for that. It wasn’t right.”

            “It’s okay,” I said.

            “You’re a nice guy, Flynt. A lot of the other people here are real nice too. I shouldn’t have treated them the way I have.”

            “Hey,” I said, and nudged her shoulder. “It’s okay, really. I think you’re a good person. And I’m sure that you can work out whatever it is that’s going on with Buck.”

            She looked down, then raised her head and smiled. “Yeah. You’re probably right. Thank you, Flynt.”

~ ~ ~ ~

            That afternoon, I stumbled upon Gam at the pool, sitting with her feet in the water, just as she had been when I first met her. She glanced up as I approached. “Hey Flynt. You lookin’ for someone to hang out with?”

            “How did you know?” I asked.

            “What do you think I am, stupid? You’ve been slowly making your way through every kid on this campsite. C’mon, we can go swimming for a bit.”

            I spent some time in the pool with Gam. She tended to splash a lot, but it was nevertheless a lot of fun. I felt like we got a little closer. Afterwards, sitting at the edge of the pool and kicking up little eddies in the water, I watched as she ran a towel through her hair. “I’ve never seen you without your hat on,” I said.

            She glanced over, eyebrows raised. “You mean the cat one? Yeah, I do kind of get that a lot. It’s just my trademark, I guess.”

            “How come?”

            “I started wearing it a while back,” she said. “All of my friends just got used to seeing me with it, so I began wearing all the time. Not exactly a fascinating story, if you get my drift.”

            “It’s pretty cool though,” I said. We were quiet for a moment. I let my eyes wander around the pool, trying to think of a subject. “So… The comedian thing. Where did that come from?”

            With deft fingers, she flicked the towel through the tips of her hair and slung it around her shoulder. “I have… uh, people issues, you could say. Seems ironic, right? Well, sometimes I start getting nervous and shit. So I turn to my best friend or my mom to calm me down. And their way of doing it is always by making me laugh. I guess I just want to return the favor.”

            I frowned, looking down. “People issues? D’you mean anxiety, or something?”

            She snapped her fingers at me, pointing them like guns. “Slick shootin’ there, Tex. _Obviously_ that’s what I meant.”

            I made a face. “Sorry.”

            “I’m only joking,” she said with a grin.

            “But,” I said, trying to stay on track, “the anxiety thing. Maybe… Well, maybe that’s the reason that you tried to…”

            “Kill someone?” she said. “It’s not a bad word or something, you don’t have to jump around it. Hell, you wouldn’t have to jump around it if it _was_ a bad word. I don’t give a fuck.”

            “Still, that’s probably not something you want to talk about,” I said. “Just forget it.”

            She shook her head. “Really, it’s fine. And you probably have a point. I was beginning to feel a panic attack coming on when I went and grabbed that poison. I guess I… Well, I kind of lost my shit, in a way. Pretty stupid of me.”

            I glanced in the other direction. “I think you tried your best, you know? We were all really scared. We still are. In retrospect, it really isn’t surprising for someone to respond the way you did.”

            “I’m sorry,” she said, her lighthearted tone suddenly gone.

            “You’ve said that already,” I murmured, trying to smile.

            Her eyes flicked away. “Yeah, I know. It just seems almost surreal to me, looking back. I can’t believe I would try to pull that shit. I mean, even though I ultimately didn’t do anything, it still had serious consequences. It was the real fuckin’ deal.”

            “You didn’t do it, Gam,” I murmured. “That’s what matters.”

            “Yeah, I guess,” she said, then abruptly stood. “…Ya positive piece of shit. Heh. I’ll talk with you later, Flynt.”

~ ~ ~ ~

            I didn’t see much of the others as I headed to bed that night. My time in the pool with Gam had run considerably longer than I’d originally thought, meaning I was going to bed later than I usually did. The Night Time announcement, in fact, had gone off a good ten minutes before I got under the covers. I was restless and fidgety, but ultimately I fell into a light sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Candyredterezii" is in fact Dani's real Tumblr URL, and I highly suggest you follow her. The same thing goes for Flynt, who is "Atarikomaeda."
> 
> A lot of people are asking what will happen to the people who aid the culprit if the culprit is found guilty. I should have included that in the part, but I unfortunately forgot to. Here's what Monobear's answer would be:  
> "What? What are you talking about? Why would I punish them? They didn't kill anyone, did they?"
> 
> If there's actually anyone out here who's reading this without being in the Facebook group that it originated from, I figured you might want to see the list of shipping names that we're making. This is what we have so far:
> 
> Flynt and Gigi: Firestarting Kit  
> Olivia and Max: Necromaxy  
> Buck and Neil: P. Sherman 42 Wallaby Way Sydney  
> Neil and Haley: Lords of Punk Rock  
> Flynt and Jason: Gaymer Boys  
> Enoch and Enoch's Watch: Wrist Thing  
> Enoch's Watch and Gigi's Watch: Awristed Development  
> Gigi Selfcest: Shrodinger's Cat  
> Gam and Gigi: What's New Pussycat  
> Gigi and Olivia: A Tail of Two Kitties  
> Pamela Selfcest: Pamlux  
> Neil and Enoch: Lords of the Underdork  
> Buck and Dani: Bunni  
> Max and Calise: Mini Me  
> Max and Enoch: Strider Rider  
> Gigi and Calise: Catlise  
> Max and Flynt: Heteromaxible  
> Neil and Flynt: Vocal Boreds  
> Calise Selfcest: Late to Late School  
> Gam and Haley: Rock-it  
> Gam Selfcest: Catrock  
> Flynt and Jae: Senpai Has Noticed You  
> Olivia Selfcest: Toast Prime  
> Flynt and Enoch: Flyntaïr  
> Flynt and Dani: Anarchycest  
> Flynt and Olivia: Ibuki's Spaghetti
> 
> If you have questions about any of these (as I'm sure you do) you can always ask me about them over at my Tumblr, which goes by the same name; Deadcanons.


	9. 2.3 "Golden Touch"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm more than a little upset about this one.

(Ab)normal Days Part 3

            In my dreams, I was walking down a path.

            My surroundings were fuzzy and dark. There were long stretches of grass; the smell of smoke; the call of wild birds. Someone touched my wrist; a gentle brush of skin on skin, beckoning me. I knew this person. I would never let myself lose her, for life would be empty without her presence. She was heading down the path, so I followed.

            At first, we walked. Then she began to jog. Soon she picked up a run. I matched paces with her, staying just behind her, wondering where we were headed. But, inevitably, she began to run faster. No matter how hard I tried, feet pounding against the ground, the distance between us began to grow. Her already fuzzy shape grew indistinct, lost in mist, as though millions of miles away from me. A speck of starlight in an empty sky. I called out to her, but it was too late. She was gone.

            I stopped running. There was something in my hand now; I raised it to my face to study it. I knew what I had to do.

            My dream was cut in half by the sound of a piercing scream. I shot up in bed, startled and dazed. What was going on? Was someone hurt? What time was it?

            I sought out the window next to my bed. The moon was still out, but low in the sky; dawn would be here soon. I figured it was about four or five in the morning. I shook my head, perturbed by the sound I’d heard; had that been a part of the dream, or something else? Either way, I should probably check. It sounded like it had come from the east.

            Slipping out of bed, I grabbed my lantern and flicked it to life, kicking on my tennis shoes before heading outside. I rounded the corner of my cabin, only to be met with the electric fence. I was confused for a moment, then realized that this had been the old border to the first area that we had access to. This fence must connect to the gate that Monobear had opened for us. There was no telltale hum of electricity; he must have turned this fence off because it wasn’t necessary anymore. I supposed that meant that he had individual control of all of the fences. Interesting. Unfortunately, it was still ridiculously tall and covered with barbed wire, so there was no way I’d be able to climb over.

            I picked up a light jog, heading in the direction of the gate. The sound had definitely come from somewhere within the forest. I didn’t know if anyone else had heard it, but that wasn’t going to stop me from investigating; I needed to make sure that everything was alright.

            Once in the forest, I tried to stick to the path, holding my lantern out in front of me like a beacon. It was the only source of light, save for a weak trickle from the moon that occasionally shot through the trees. I kept a quick pace, eyes darting back and forth in search of anything suspicious. It quickly became apparent, however, that my plan was a stupid one. I couldn’t see anything special, and this forest was very large; there was no way that I’d find the source of one scream simply by stumbling around in the dark. I needed a new strategy.

            Looking around, I felt my heart sink. There was no way I would be able to find anything like this. It was far too dark out to figure out what was going on, and my lantern didn’t produce nearly enough light to fix the problem. I glared at the trees, worried and uncertain.

            Something touched my shoulder. “Flynt?”

            “Shit!” I yelped, feeling like I was going to jump out of my own skin. I spun around to see Max, face sharply illuminated in the glow of my lantern. “Don’t scare me like that!”

            He blinked. “Did you hear a scream?”

            “Yeah,” I said, taking a breath. “Do you know what happened?”

            “No. Enoch is out here too. We’re looking.”

            I glanced to the side, spying further into the forest. The path forked up ahead. “Okay, let’s each take a direction and see what we can find.”

            He set off to the right, so I took the left path. I walked for some time, but had yet to find anything that could be constituted as important. After a little while, I started calling out into the darkness, hoping that whoever had screamed might hear me. Several minutes passed; suddenly, there was a flicker of movement to my right, off amongst the trees.

            “Hello?” I called. No answer. After a brief moment of hesitation, I stepped off of the path and slipped into the trees.

            In this area, much of the foliage was tightly packed, so I had to twist my body back and forth to avoid branches. Soon it began to thin out, although the trees were still fairly close together, blocking the glow of my lantern so I couldn’t see very far in front of me. I called out again, but no one answered. I thought I heard some leaves crunching nearby, which made me spin around, but there was nothing there. Only trees.

            Walking slowly and turning at intervals to scan the area, I ended up bumping into a tree from behind. It made me wheel in surprise, only to grow more shocked when I saw that something was taped to the rough bark. A piece of paper. I tore it off and read it with the aid of my lantern.

            _Gotcha._

            I looked around me again. All I could see was trees. Bewildered, I flipped the paper over to see that something else was written on the other side. It appeared to be some sort of free-verse poem, handwritten:

            _There's a fracture in the world design_

_A hairline crack on the edge of the program_

_A fragile flaw in the infrastructure that will rip it open_

_from the inside out._

_There's no going back now_

_No turning away from these demons_

_That seek to see our blood spill from every orifice_

_every angle._

_I still can’t figure out what’s changed._

I couldn’t make sense of it. Who had written this? Why? What did it mean? I stuffed the paper into my pocket and turned, thinking I should try to find Max again. When I raised my head, however, I stopped dead in my tracks.

            Standing several yards away, half-hidden behind a tree and shrouded in a pale, pre-morning mist that hovered over the ground in clumps, was Slenderman.

            I felt my gorge rise. If this was some sort of fake, or a trick, it was a perfect replica. He was tall and willowy, limbs spread in an almost warlike stance; he was wearing black clothes, and his skin was bone white. There were no facial features to be seen, but I still got the impression that he was looking right at me. I didn’t dare turn my eyes away.

            We stood like this for some time. He was close enough to me to be a threat, but far enough away that I didn’t try to run. Panic was beginning to spread through me; I had to do something. I had to make the first move. I ended up blinking involuntarily once or twice, an action that filled me with horror, but in these situations he was still standing in the same place when I opened them again. What was he waiting for? I had to find a way out of here.

            So terrified was I that I almost didn’t notice when the speakers clicked on. Monobear’s voice was more than enough to make me look away, however.

            “Ding dong, ding dong! A body has been discovered. After a brief period of investigation, a school trial will commence!”

            My blood ran cold. I heard someone shout my name through the forest; it sounded like Enoch.

            I flicked my gaze across the trees again, looking for Slenderman, but he was gone. Head spinning, feeling like I was going to be sick, I ran as quickly as I could through the trees. Without the path to follow, I might as well have been blind, but I managed to stay on the right track because of Enoch’s voice. Gasping for air, I eventually darted out into the clearing where the pond lay. Enoch was crouched on the ground, hands pressed to his forehead, and Max stood over the pool, eyes wide.

            “It’s happened again,” Max said as I approached, but he didn’t look away from the pond. I forced myself to glance down.

            Pamela was floating just beneath the surface of the water, her limbs spread out as though she were about to take flight, tied down by rope to a bedframe that had sunk to the bottom of the pool. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pam's body being found in the pool is a callback to the Narnia reference.
> 
> I'm equating Pamela to gold.
> 
> Because she is gold.
> 
> I'm really sorry about this, Pam.


	10. 2.4 "Curiouser and Curiouser"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just in time for Valentine's Day!
> 
> I'd like to apologize for the delay; school hit me hard. Part of me is concerned that the fact this was written in choppy segments might have effected the investigation as a whole, but there isn't much I can do. The most important thing is that I get all of the information out there, and I was successful in that respect. I think.

Investigation

            My knees buckled. My head spun. My fingers clenched at my sides. I didn’t know what to do or think; how could this have happened again? Who could have done this? We found ourselves once more at the brink of destruction, giving rise to a villain so terrible that their very identity was kept hidden. I stared down at the pond – at Pamela’s body – feeling myself fall into shock.

            Before I knew it, the other students had joined us, murmuring under their breath or gasping in horror. Monobear showed up afterwards, emerging from the trees with his hands behind his back.

            “Well, well, well,” he cooed. “Looks like one of you bastards has struck again! Terrible, isn’t it?”

            No one responded. I was roused out of my stupor by their silence; I turned to the side to see that the others were looking away from Monobear, not giving him the attention that he craved. After a pause, he spoke up again. “Well, I’m sure you want me to leave anyway! I mean, you’ve got a body to investigate, right? I’ll just get in the way. Have fun, and be sure to check the new Monobear file!”

            After he left, I raised my head to see Gigi walking up next to me, frowning. “This is bad. This is very-bad-not-good-terrible.”

            “Nice one,” Buck snapped from behind us. “Made you sound really useful and intelligent.”

            “Much like how you sounded when you fucked over your relationship with Dani?” she responded tartly.

            “Hey, what the f-”

            “Could we maybe just get to investigating?” Calise cut in. “Please?”

            “I’ll help guard the body,” Jae murmured, walking towards the pool.

            “Me too,” Calise said.

            At length, the others dispersed, beginning their investigations. Gigi nudged my shoulder. “You seem perturbed.”

            I gestured haplessly at the pond. “With Ryan… at least he didn’t do it on purpose. But what are the odds of that having happened again?”

            Max touched my wrist. I looked over to him – his eyes were darker than they’d ever been before. “All we can do now is avenge her. It’s what she deserves.”

            “Here’s an idea,” Gigi said. She tried to smile, but it looked strained. “How about all three of us investigate together? We might make more progress that way. Bouncing our ideas off of each other, and whatnot.”

            I shrugged, looking to Max. “I’m fine with it.”

            He nodded.

            I pulled my ElectroID out of my pocket, figuring I should check the Monobear file before anything else. It read:

            _The victim is Pamela Riley. Her body was discovered in a pool of water in the forest. The victim died around 3:30 in the morning. There are small abrasions on both hands and a wound on her head. There are no traces of poison or other drugs._

            I narrowed my eyes in confusion as I finished reading. “That’s… weird.”

            “What is it?” Gigi asked.

            “The Monobear file doesn’t list the cause of death,” I said. “Maybe it wasn’t included because it’s obvious… But Olivia’s cause of death was pretty obvious too, and it _did_ show up in her file.”

            “That is rather odd,” Max conceded, eyes flicking back and forth across the file. “Perhaps Monobear forgot? But no, that seems far too convenient.”

            “We’ll have to look into that then,” Gigi said from my other shoulder.

            Max pointed at the text. “This is worth noting as well. Her time of death.”

            “What about it?” I asked.

            He narrowed his eyes. “What time did you hear that scream, do you think?”

            I thought back. I’d been considering this last night, around the time when I woke up. “It had been around four or five. But… that’s strange. According to the file, she was dead by then. So who screamed?”

            “I think we should get a look at this body,” Gigi said. “That could clear some things up.”

            Taking a breath, I looked down into the pool. Pamela seemed almost angelic; her body was suspended in the water, as though she could hover; her arms were spread out from her sides, as though she were in flight; her hair fell across her eyes, obscuring her face, as though a mask. I shook my head, trying to clear an unprompted image of her with wings. The tip of her nose was just beneath the surface of the water. A rope had been tied around her left ankle in a noose knot, the other end of which connected to the center support of an old bed frame at the bottom of the pool. The water was tinged a light red.

            “Don’t you think this is weird?” Jae said, watching me study the body.

            “What do you mean?”

            He pointed at the water. “It’s red. But Pam drowned. Why is there blood?”

            “Um-”

            “And look at how she’s floating,” he added, crouching to get closer to his—or maybe her—subject. “She’s just about touching the surface.”

            “So?” I asked.

            He raised a thoughtful eyebrow. “S’pose the culprit tied her up like this and got her under the water to drown her. Well, wouldn’t she be thrashing around and struggling? She would have breathed in a lot of water, but… She would have gotten some gulps of air too.”

            “She has a wound on her head,” Calise said from next to us. “The Monobear file says so. Maybe the culprit knocked her out? And then put her in the water? That would explain why there’s blood, too.”

            “I agree with Jae,” Max said. “It doesn’t make sense. Why even tie her up in the first place, anyway? If the culprit was strong enough to carry a bed frame, they were probably strong enough to simply hold her down and drown her.”

            Gigi sighed. “We really need to get a proper look at this body.”

            “Good luck with that,” Calise murmured. “She’s sort of underwater.”

            Max turned around suddenly, flicking his gaze over to the nearest security camera, and said to it, “Mind lending a hand, Monobear?”

            After a brief pause, the bear made his appearance, slipping out from between two trees. He shot what might have been an annoyed glance at Max, then walked up to the edge of the pond and glanced in. “Eh… Well, I guess it’s only fair of me to let you do one of your kid detective autopsies.”

            “So are you going to help us move her?” Max asked.

            “What?” he snapped. “Of course not! What do you think I am, your maid or something? Take care of it yourselves!”

            As Monobear stamped off, I offered Max a lighthearted shrug. “At least you tried.”

            Gigi waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. Someone go find a tarp; we’ll have her out of there in no time.”

            At length, we had wrapped Pamela’s body around a tarp and used it to hoist her out of the water, placing her next to the pool. We then set to work pulling the bed frame onto the shore. It took all three of us, gripping onto the rope and tugging for our lives, but in the end the entire operation was lying next to the bloodied water rather than in it.

            “Alright,” Gigi huffed. “Time to get a good look at what happened to her.”

            Just in case, I decided to check the bed frame first. It was old and appeared to be rusting – whether from the water or previous damage, I couldn’t say. It was a cheap model; there wasn’t even a headboard. I figured that it must have come from the U-Haul, as there had been several bed frames inside of it, and made a mental note to check over there later.

            Satisfied, I moved on to the rope. It was soaked through and fraying in some places, but nevertheless quite strong – and the knots were very sturdy. Someone with at least moderate experience must have tied them. Ohanzee stepped up to the rope from the other side, studying it. “I wonder where the culprit got this from,” he said.

            “Good question,” I murmured. “I can’t recall seeing anything like that around here.”

            “I have a theory,” Max said, but didn’t continue.

            After an awkward pause, Ohanzee prompted, “Mind telling us?”

            “Not quite yet. I mean,” he said, “it’s only a theory.”

            “Well, either way,” Ohanzee said, sighing. “It’s kind of strange. I didn’t know we had any rope around here.”

            “There might be some in the storage room,” I said.

            He grinned. “Hey, good thinking. Might be worth looking into.”

            Next, I moved on to Pamela herself. Now, lying prone on the ground, she looked properly lifeless, water pooling on the tarp beneath her. I took a deep breath and knelt to study her hands, cupped together in front of her.

            At first, I couldn’t find the wounds that the Monobear file had mentioned. I had to turn her hands over to find small, scab-like marks lining the knuckles of both hands. Someone touched my back from behind, and I turned to see Dani staring down at me, inquisitive. “What are you looking at?” she asked.

            I gently held up one of Pamela’s hands so she could see. “There’s these wounds on her knuckles. I’m wondering how they got there.”  
            Dani frowned at them, raising an eyebrow. “Weird. It’s out of the ordinary to get injuries like that on your hands. She must have been grabbing onto something… Or maybe stuck her hand into something? I dunno. It’s weird.”

            I nodded in agreement.

            A few moments later, Max waved me over. He was crouching near Pamela’s shoulders, hands held together. “I’ve found the head wound,” he said as I approached.

            I tried not to grimace, an image rising to mind of Max prodding around her lifeless skull. “Okay,” I said, gritting my teeth. “Show me.”

            He grabbed my arm with unexpected force, pulling me down to the ground. His hand was cold. I sat awkwardly, resisting the urge to squirm as he guided me to the base of her skull and pressed my fingertips against it, drawing them forwards until I hit a sudden and startling depression halfway up her head. “Oh,” I said, surprised and a little mortified.

            “The skull is cracked,” he said, pressing my hand down further. The area was squishy and offered no resistance; I made a face. “Whatever happened, she was hit here pretty hard.”

            I pulled my hand away quickly. “Er, thanks for the demonstration.”

            As I got up, I nearly bumped into Enoch from behind, who was studying his ElectroID. “Oh, hey Flynt,” he said, looking up. “Were you just looking at the head injury?”

            I nodded.

            He narrowed his eyes, frowning. “I was wondering. Do you suppose a hit like that could have killed someone?”

            Feeling like I had a pretty good understanding of his train of thought, I nodded again. “Yes, probably. Is that what you think killed her?”

            He shrugged, missive, but he was smiling slightly. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

            “Well, tell me if you come up with any evidence,” I said.

            I saw Jason crouched next to a bush near Pamela’s body, his lips drawn together in consternation. I walked over. “Did you find something?”

            He glanced my way briefly, then nodded. “Yes. This bush has been all crumpled in the middle here, see? Someone threw something into it. And I think I can see what it was.”

            I knelt. Nestled amongst the twisted boughs of the plant was a long, gnarled chunk of wood. I offered my hand, and Jason nodded. Together we hefted the object out from where it was hidden—though he carried most of the weight. He probably could have done it without me. It was a thick, splintering tree branch, about the length of my arm.

            “Look,” he said, turning it over in his palms. About half of one end was dyed in dark red blood. “Clearly the culprit used this for _something_.”

            I nodded, hiding a frown. “We’ll have to keep it in mind during the trial.”

            I turned to see Gigi sit down heavily in the grass, only to suddenly jump upwards with a yelp.

            “Are you alright?” Max asked, raising an eyebrow.

            “Yes,” she said, looking a little miffed. “I sat on something. In the grass.”

            She stooped and retrieved the object in question, holding it aloft. It appeared to be a small, weathered journal, with a peeling, unmarked cover and worn pages. When she opened it, walking over so that we could see, I noted that several of the pages had been torn out, and those that remained were heavily dog-eared. On the inside of the front cover was a messy scrawl that read _Property of Pamela Riley._ “Curiouser and curiouser,” Gigi murmured.

            I gently took it from her, flipping through the pages. They were covered in writing. I chose one at random and began to read:

             _Street signs ahead_

_point to different choices_

_I've made in my life._

_The people I've met_

_the people I trust_

_suddenly I feel_

_that those ideas have turned to dust._

_My very mainframe_

_is slowly collapsing_

_so excuse me as_

_I leave you to ideas more surreal._

_Apologies_

_my meaning to you_

_has started to break._

_All those that know_

_how my friendship goes_

_don't want me around you_

_like a dream I can feel_

_but can't become awake_

_Should I lose you_

_I'll be fine as you knew_

_you'll have everything good to do._

_For a break in the dream_

_I know_

_that I promise to be true._

_I'll say good night_

_to that you you knew tonight._

_The trust buried in her own fright._

_You're going to lose her_

_if you blur your sight._

            “It’s… a book of poems,” I said.

            “Of course it is,” Max said. “She was a Super High School Level Poet, wasn’t she?”

            I closed it, studying the front. “But what is it doing out here?”

            “Perhaps she couldn’t sleep, and was doing some writing before she was murdered?” Gigi suggested.

            “Maybe,” I murmured. As I ran my fingers over the frayed edges where pages had been ripped out, however, something occurred to me. “Wait a minute. I’ve seen this paper before.”

            “Have you now?” Gigi said, looking intrigued.

            “Yeah. Last night. When we were looking for who had screamed, I got lost in the woods and there was… Um. On second thought, maybe it isn’t actually important.”

            “Why are you backing out all of a sudden?” Max said.

            I rubbed the back of my neck, eyes narrowed. “Well, it’s just… In retrospect, I must have imagined it. There’s no way this _actually_ happened.”

            “Now I’m simply too intrigued for you to _not_ tell us,” he said, studying me with a quizzical expression.

            I sighed, closed my eyes for a moment, and then said, “I found a note pinned to a tree. It said ‘Gotcha’ on one side and had a poem written on the other. It was the same kind of paper as this. And then… Well, I saw Slenderman.”

            Gigi hesitated for a moment. She opened her mouth, and then closed it again. “Er, do you have the note?”

            “Yeah,” I said, retrieving it from my pocket. She skimmed it, then handed it to Max, who studied both sides with a critical expression.

            “It appears to be Pam’s handwriting. There’s a good chance it came from this journal,” he said.

            Gigi nodded. “Right-o there. But what’s this about Slenderman?”

            I shrugged, trying to act as though it hadn’t been a big deal. “He was a pretty good distance from me, behind some trees. We sort of got in this staring contest, and then the body announcement was made, so I got distracted. When I looked back, he was gone.” I paused before adding, “But it was an exact likeness.”

            Max made a face. “If the legends are anything to go off of, and you _really_ met Slenderman in the woods, then you would be dead, Flynt.”

            “Slenderman,” Gigi mused, seemingly to herself. “Slendermanslendermanslenderman _Sllllenderrrrrmannnnn_ … Seems I’ve been hearing that name a lot lately.”

            “What do you mean?” I asked.

            “Haley mentioned it to me when we first gained access to this forest,” she said. “It seemed to really creep her out; how similar these woods were to that of the woods in the video game.”

            “She talked to me about it too,” I said. “I think she was talking to a lot of people about it, in fact. She… worries, I guess.”

            “‘Worries’,” Max echoed, tone a little sharp. “Sure. This makes her a prime suspect, you realize.”

            I was a little aghast, but it didn’t take much for me to realize that he had a point. “We should talk to her later.”

            “Good idea,” he said. “But first I think we should inspect the area of the forest where you saw your Slenderman. There could be some clues there.”

            “Off we go then,” Gigi said, slipping through the trees towards the main path through the forest. It occurred to me that I should probably be the one leading the way, but she didn’t seem too perturbed. I nevertheless picked up my pace to walk ahead of her, guiding our group through the forest.

            Along the way, I was surprised to see Buck kneeling next to a large black backpack off to the side of the path, shifting through the contents inside. He seemed to be distracted, as he didn’t even bother to glance our way when we approached. “What’s that?” I asked once we were behind him.

            He turned slightly to glower at me. In his hand was a long, pale brown coil of rope. “None of your goddamn business.”

            Max shot a glance in my direction. I returned it in the form of a nervous frown. “Er, what’s in the bag?” I tried.

            He turned around fully now, eyes narrowed to slits. From the corner of my eye, I saw Gigi sneaking around the side of the path to approach him from another angle. He said, “You know, you’ve got some nerve, Flynt. Wasting your breath over me when there’s a fuckin’ dead body to worry about? I think you need to get your priorities straight before you start giving a shit about what’s in my backpack.”

            “I don’t know,” I said. “You just seemed so focused. I thought it might be something important.”

            “Don’t you have better things to do? Like investigate? Go away before I flay you alive,” he growled, then turned back to his bag, only to come nose-to-nose with Gigi as she reached inside to grab something. “What the _fuck_ do you think you’re doing?”

            She pressed her nose up against his, grin so smarmy that it didn’t even seem real. “ _Investigating,_ ” she purred.

            “You fuckers better get out of here or I swear to god-!”

            With the sort of giggle that best suited a five-year-old, Gigi jumped back from the backpack and trotted over to join the rest of us as we walked away. “Thanks for the help, Buck!” she called over her shoulder. I could just about hear him seething.

            A slight, almost imperceptible smile played on Max’s lips. “Nice work. What was in the backpack?”

            Her humorous demeanor faded a little too quickly for my liking. “Hunting equipment. Knives, rope, paint, utility belts… The whole works. And it doesn’t look like anything that he got from somewhere on the campsite. It definitely belongs to him.”

            “And that rope,” Max added. “As far as I’m aware, there isn’t any rope on the campsite. But he has some.”

            “I-I was going to check the storage room about that,” I said quickly.

            He shrugged, seemingly indifferent. “Go ahead. Either way, Buck is on the suspect list.”

            Unsure of what to say, I led them through the forest to the place where I’d forked off of the path in silence. Hoping I would be able to find my way, I headed into the trees. In the light of day, it was much easier to find my path. Before long, we were standing in front of the thick trunk of a tree, a scrap of paper stuck to the bark by a small steel nail. I must have ripped the page when I tore it from the tree.

            Max held the piece of paper up to the trunk—it lined up accordingly. “Well, your story appears to be true. At least the first half of it does. Tell me, where was Slenderman when you saw him?”

            I glanced around to get my bearings, then pointed towards a copse of trees in the near distance. I could recall seeing his likeness behind one of the trees, staring at me. Without another word, Max jogged over to the appointed place, disappearing briefly behind the trees. When he appeared again, he was standing exactly where I’d seen Slenderman, and looked to be considerably taller than normal.

            “You look… well, freakishly tall. How did you do that?” I asked.

            He nodded downwards, then called, “There’s a tree trunk over here. It’s pretty tall. Your ‘Slenderman’ could have stood on this to increase their height. He’s mostly legs in the video game version, anyway.”

            “That would explain why they never moved or tried to attack me,” I said.

            “Perhaps it was an intimidation tactic,” Gigi mused. “Something to distract you from the issue at hand.”

            “But why?”

            “Isn’t that always the question?” she sighed.

            As Max returned, I said, “This doesn’t explain how the culprit made themselves look like Slenderman. I mean, it was an exact replica.”

            “Assuming you weren’t just hallucinating,” Max said flatly, “then I’d bet we could find evidence of it somewhere. Perhaps we already have.”

            “What do you mean?” I asked.

            “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Just a theory, remember?”

            I sighed, but didn’t press him. “Where to next?” Gigi said.

            “I think we should check out that U-Haul,” I responded. “I think the bed frame must have come from there.”

            “I’m right behind you,” she said.

            The walk was a long one, but none of us seemed to mind. Upon arriving, I saw Gam leaning against the back of the truck, head lowered in thought. I nodded her way but didn’t say anything, eager to check inside. Sure enough, the stack of bed frames seemed to be one lower than it was previously.

            “That’s one mystery out of the way,” Max said. “But this is odd, don’t you think?”

            “What is?” I said.

            He gestured. “These bed frames seem very old. It would be heavy and unwieldy—especially if you were carrying it all the way to the pond. There’s no drag marks or any sign of a bed frame being moved anywhere. With something like this… the culprit would have had to have help.”

            “What you mean to say,” Gigi said slowly, “is that you think Monobear’s motive has something to do with this case.”

            “Exactly,” he said.

            “But… would one of us really do that?” I said, perturbed. “Help a murderer?”

            Max rolled his eyes. “Really, I don’t understand why all of you are so bent on believing that everyone here is innocent. Murderers exist. Serial killers exist. Fake Slendermen exist. We’re not going to be able to solve this case if everyone keeps trying to insist that no one is to blame.”

            Gigi and I exchanged a glance. “I guess you’re right,” I said.

            I paused as we headed back outside, glancing at Gam. She seemed concerned. “Hey,” I said to her. “What’s the matter?”

            She glanced up. “Oh, nothing really. Headache, foot itches, got bills to pay, friend just died… You know, the usual.”

            I made a face.

            “I know, I know,” she huffed. “Now’s not the time for humor. I was just thinking about Monobear’s motive.”

            “You think it has something to do with the case,” I said, nodding. “Max thinks so too.”

            “No,” she said. “Well, yeah. But that’s not what I’m worried about right now.”

            “What is it?”

            “Monobear said that if the culprit isn’t correctly figured out, then any of the culprit’s assistants will survive along with them. But what if the culprit loses? What happens to the assistants?”

            “Eh?” Seemingly out of nowhere, Monobear had appeared at the corner of the U-Haul. “What are you guys talking about? I thought that was obvious.”

            “Enlighten us then,” Gam grumbled.

            “The assistants didn’t kill anyone, did they? So why would I punish them?” He laughed suddenly. “Hey, if I didn’t follow that rule, you would be dead, wouldn’t you? Technically you were an assistant in Olivia’s murder!”

            “Sh-Shut up!” she snapped, color rising to her cheeks.

            Deliberately standing in between the two of them, I said, “Thanks for the information, Monobear.”

            “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

            A few seconds later, Gigi walked up, expression as unreadable as always. She had something in her hand, and she held it up as she approached. “Look at what I found.”

            I took it from her. It was another note, just like the one that I’d found last night. On one side it said, in big red letters, “Always watches, no eyes”. On the other side was another poem:

            _i cannot speak_  
            _for i am weak_  
_the world is bleak_  
_the world has a leak_  
  
_drowning in words we dont mean_  
_watching what we do_  
_a repetitive process from me to you_  
_i will be the crack in the sky you knew_  
  
_lets play a game_  
_count to three_  
_suddenly my weaknesses_  
_make it hard to see_  
_begin to drown me_

I frowned, looking up at Gigi. “It was pinned to a nearby tree. Just like yours,” she said.

            “The culprit must have put multiple pages out here,” I said. “They really wanted us to think that Slenderman was in these woods.”

            She shrugged, tone oddly benign. “Maybe he was.”

            “You don’t actually believe that, do you?” I said, narrowing my eyes.

            She shrugged again. “Anyway, I think I’m going to go do some solo investigating, if you don’t mind. Max has already slipped off, so I’m pretty sure he had the same idea as me.”

            “Okay,” I said, nodding slightly. There were still a few more things that I wanted to investigate, and I figured it would go faster if I was on my own. There probably wasn’t much time left before the trial would start.

            On my way back towards the clearing, I saw Haley walking along the path ahead of me, and trotted to catch up with her. “Hey,” I called.

            She turned. “Oh, hi Flynt. How’s the investigation going?”

            “Okay. I think. I wanted to ask you something.”

            “Shoot.”

            “When we first got access to this forest, you were telling me about how it reminded you of the Slenderman game,” I said. “Did you talk to anyone else about that?”

            “Yeah,” she said, nodding. “A lot of people, actually.” She glanced away, abruptly morose. “That game always scared me, you know. When it first became a big deal. The entire ‘Slenderman’ thing in general was just… really creepy. So, I don’t know. I guess I felt like talking with people about it.”

            “Do you remember exactly who you talked to?” I asked.

            She pressed a finger to her lips. “Not really. Maybe half of the students?”

            “Okay. Thanks.”

            “No problem,” she said with a small smile.

            Outside of the gift shop, I found Neil leaning next to the door, hand pressed to his mouth and eyebrows knit together in thought. He glanced up as I approached. “Flynt! I wanted to talk with you. You were there when Pam’s body was found, right?”

            “Sort of,” I said. “I was nearby.”

            “Go through the order of events for me,” he said. “From when you heard that scream.”

            I lowered my eyes in thought. “Um, I woke up and went out into the forest on my own, because that’s where the scream had come from. It was dark out so I couldn’t see anything. Max found me and told me that he and Enoch were also looking for the source of the scream. We split up to see what we could find. I… ran into some trouble when I got lost in the forest, and then I heard the body announcement. Enoch was calling my name, so I followed his voice to the pool where he and Max were.”

            “So they were the only two people there when the body announcement was made?” he asked.

            “Yeah, I think so,” I said. “Why?”

            He shook a finger at me. “That’s weird, don’t you think? The rules say that three students need to have seen the body before the announcement will be made.”

            “That is… odd,” I said. “Maybe the culprit counts as one of the people.”

            He glanced away. “ _Maybe._ I’m not so sure though.”

            After talking with Neil, I slipped into the gift shop, rounding the corner past the bathrooms to peek inside the storage room. The height of the shelves was strangely intimidating. There was no one else around, so I stalked through the aisles in silence, scanning the shelves for any sign of the ropes like the one at the murder scene. I was dismayed to find that there was nothing of the sort to be seen. I didn’t know where the culprit had gotten that rope from, but it definitely wasn’t here.

            Lost in thought, I jumped slightly when the speakers clicked on. “I think that’s enough! Everyone please gather in the field behind the clearing so that we may begin our class trial!”

            I felt ill with dismay, but there was no escaping it. Picking up my pace, I exited the gift shop and hastily made my way around the corner. At length, the other students joined me in front of the false floor of grass that had opened up in the ground. We all exchanged glances, and then, as though one mind, heaved a reluctant sigh before making our way down to the elevator.

            The sound of scraping steel made my head hurt as we descended. The light was blocked out from above and the darkness grew ever-thicker and evermore impenetrable the farther we went. I imagined never seeing that light again, and the pain in my stomach seemed to worsen. I lowered my eyes.

            The elevator came to a halt and the doors screeched open, ushering us into a courtroom of light and dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The "giving rise to a villain" line is a reference to the CocoRosie song called [Villain.](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A8_TeXI0p4w)  
> There's some irony here with Gigi's "curiouser and curiouser" line. I wrote this part literally the day before the NIS translation for DR started being put up on Youtube. Gigi is not only a very large Alice in Wonderland fan, but also a very large Celes fan. So you can imagine my rage when Celes made the exact. Same. Reference.  
> This, my friends, is the reason that we do not allow ourselves to have obnoxiously long hiatuses. Your own fandom will find a way to get ahead of you.
> 
> Unlike in the previous part of the story, the two poems featured here were actually written by Pam. So, you know, shout out to her. Also, I couldn't get the fucking spacing on the first poem to look right. So you just have to deal with it being all fucked up. (It's sort of like how I couldn't get there to be two spaces between the first two paragraphs of these notes. AO3 just likes to ruin my day every now and then.)
> 
> I think there may or may not be some annoyance on Haley's side due to her character's comment that she used to be afraid of Slenderman. There was a discussion about this in the group, but I honestly can't remember who said what, and I don't have the tenacity to scroll through the hundreds of group search results connected with Slenderman to try and find it. So she used to be afraid of Slenderman in canon. Deal with it.
> 
> While we're here, I'd also like to make note of one of my conversations with Laura regarding the evidence in this part. I was deciding where I was going to place the tree branch, and she suggested that I have it fall out of where it was stashed in a tree and land in front of Flynt. My response to this was, "That's like a metaphor for all of the answers to all of Flynt's questions literally falling out of the fucking sky and hitting him on the head and killing him."  
> Laura and I have some very interesting conversations while I'm trying to get all my damn evidence in order. This is just one of the more entertaining examples. We'll see if I can't incorporate some of them into canon.


	11. 2.5 "Lost in the Woods"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trial time.

School Trial Part 1

            The red banners in the courtroom had been replaced with bright yellow tapestries of the same design that hurt to look at. The candles were still lit in their tapers, clinging to the roof, but they almost didn’t seem necessary with the presence of those banners. Still, I was happy for their existence. I was happy for any light in a place like this. We took our places in the courtroom; there was a sign like Olivia’s in Pamela’s place. Ryan had one as well, but instead of an X through his name, it was the crude, bloody image of two bones crossed together. I openly grimaced at it.

            “Good,” Monobear hummed. “Everyone’s here. Now the fun can really get started, right? Upupu, you know the rules. The class trial begins now!”

            There was a pause, and then Haley said, “Okay. Where do we start this time?”

            “I suggest we start with something that we already know for certain,” Max said almost immediately. “Like, for example, the time of death.”

            “The Monobear file said that Pam died around 3:30 in the morning,” Jason said.

            Enoch held up his wrist, waggling it in the air to draw attention to his watch. “But we heard a scream around 4:00 in the morning. I checked when it woke me up.”

            “Uh,” Ohanzee narrowed his eyes. “Maybe the Monobear file lied?”

            Monobear shook his head. “Nope! No sir-ee. Every word in those files is the truth.”

            “There must have been a witness,” Dani said.

            “Maybe,” Gigi cut in. “It’s a possibility. But I think it’s much more likely that our culprit set up the scream on purpose, to get our attention.”

            Jae made a face. “Why would the culprit want our attention? They want to hide what they did, not help us notice it. That doesn’t make sense.”

            Gigi smiled. “Under normal circumstances, I would agree. But something unique happened on the night of Pam’s murder that makes me think otherwise. Flynt, tell them.”

            “Er…” I’d been hoping that we’d be able to make it through this court case without having to mention my late night encounter, but it was quite clear that I wasn’t going to be that lucky. “Max, Enoch, and I were the first people to go looking for the source of the scream. We split up to search. I got a little lost in the woods and, uh, found a note. Like the ones in the _Slender_ game. Then I saw Slenderman himself.”

            Haley’s eyes widened. “ _What?_ But how is that possible?”

            “It isn’t,” Max said, voice flat. “But it is more than possible that the culprit wanted us to _think_ Slenderman was out here. They deliberately screamed to draw attention to the woods, and, by extension, their fake killer.”

            “Again, that makes no sense,” Jae grumbled. “Obviously Slenderman wasn’t actually in the forest. Why would they try to sell us a story that we wouldn’t believe?”

            Gam frowned. “I don’t know. I think a talking robot bear that gets kids to kill each other is a lot more farfetched than Slenderman. And yet here we are.”

            “And anyway,” Max said, “The seed had already been planted for them. Someone was going around and mentioning Slenderman to the other students.”

            “Me,” Haley said. Then, “Oh shit.”

            “Doesn’t that make her a suspect?” Neil said, eyes narrowed.

            “But… she’s Haley?” Calise yelped. “There’s no way she killed someone.”

            Max’s expression was unreadable. “We must consider every option.” He took a breath. “Regardless of whether or not Haley is to blame, the culprit had good reason to choose Slenderman as their distraction—and that reason was Haley.”

            “But what were they trying to distract us from?” Ohanzee asked, frowning. “It can’t have been the murder—she was already dead.”

            Everyone was quiet for a moment, unable to think of an answer. After a few seconds, Neil said, “Er, let’s try identifying something else first. That might make this easier. Let’s go for cause of death.”

            “Didn’t she drown?” Calise said.

            Jae shook her head. “Nope. Remember? Pam was positioned right up to the very surface of the water. There’s no way she could have drowned like that, because she would have been able to breathe in some air.”

            “Maybe the culprit held her down,” Jason suggested.

            “Then why was she tied up?” I asked.

            He frowned. “Good point.”

            “So if she didn’t die from drowning,” Dani said. “Then why was she in the pond?”

            “I think that’s quite obvious,” Max huffed. “The culprit wanted to destroy evidence. By putting the body in water for an extended period of time, the culprit made it harder for us to identify the cause of death.”

            “You act like you’ve already figured it out,” Buck grumbled.

            “I have,” he said. “A portion of Pam’s skull was crushed. She must have been hit there. It would have been more than enough to kill her.”

            “But what did the culprit hit her with?” Neil asked. “There was nothing that could have done the job at the murder scene.”

            Gam grinned. “Nah, they just used the bed frame, Neil. I’m sure it wasn’t _that_ heavy.”

            Jason snickered lightly before announcing, “I found the murder weapon. It was a large tree branch in the bushes near the pond. Part of it was covered in blood.”

            “So they hit her over the head and then submerged her in the pond? I dunno,” Jae murmured, leaning forward. “I’m still not convinced. It seemed like a messy job, you know? There was blood in the water, which was a dead giveaway, and the murder weapon was messily hidden. Couldn’t the culprit have washed the blood off using bleach ahead of time, like Ryan did, or burned the weapon in the firepit? Seems to me like there’s more to this.”

            Max had a finger pressed to his lips, frowning slightly. “Let’s think about this in terms of how much time the culprit had. Enoch, you said that we were woken up by the scream at four, correct?”

            He nodded.

            “That means there was a half hour between the time when Pam died and the time when we all heard the scream,” he continued. “For me, it takes about 20 or so minutes to walk from the pond to the main clearing; running, it’s probably about half the time.”

            “So if the culprit hurried,” Dani said, “it would have taken them about 20 minutes to burn the stick and get some bleach. Doesn’t that contradict what you’re saying?”

            “Well, yes-”

            “-But we’re leaving something else out,” Gigi said, appearing to have caught on. “Remember, there was an entire bed frame at the bottom of the pool.”

            “Where did the culprit get that from, anyway?” Ohanzee asked.

            “The U-Haul in the forest,” I said. “We checked there, and one of them was missing.”

            “That bed frame is pretty heavy,” Gigi added. “It took three of us to drag it out of the pond, although to be fair it was weighed down by the water. But the point is, it probably took a lot of time for the culprit to drag that from the U-Haul to the pond.”

            “Hang on,” Neil said. “I investigated that area, but there were no signs of any bed frame being moved. How could the culprit have gotten between those locations without leaving any visible trace?”

            “They had help,” Max said, voice flat.

            “What?” Calise yelped, looking shocked. “You mean… Monobear’s motive…?”

            “Has something to do with this case, yes,” he said. “There’s no way that it doesn’t.”

            Gigi sighed. “It _does_ make sense. There is no possible way that the culprit could have moved that bed frame without help. It was far too heavy and cumbersome.”

            “This also explains why they did not return to the clearing for supplies or to burn evidence,” I said. “Say there was only one accomplice; both of them would have been working on the bed, so they wouldn’t have had time to do much else.”

            “But wait,” Gam said. “Why did they have a time limit in the first place? Why four? Couldn’t they have just set back the fake scream until later?”

            “I think we’ve already answered that one,” Enoch said. “Slenderman. It wouldn’t have worked if it was light out.”

            “And the sun rises early in places like this,” Jason added. “It was almost dawn when we found her body, wasn’t it?”

            I nodded. “Yeah, that makes sense. And when I saw Slenderman, there was a lot of mist on the ground. It was hard to see him very clearly. The timing that the culprit chose definitely worked to the advantage of their scheme.”

            “Okay, let me make sure I have all of this in order,” Haley said. “The culprit used a tree branch to hit Pam over the head, which crushed her skull and killed her. They then brought her body to the pond with the intention of destroying evidence and confusing the cause of death. With the help of an accomplice, they dragged a bed frame to the pond to weigh her down in the water. They didn’t have any time to clean up the wound or destroy more evidence because they needed to be done before the sun rose. While it was still dark out, someone screamed, which lured us into the forest. They then somehow created a fake Slenderman to distract us from what was going on.”

            “Yeah, that reminds me,” Jae said. “We should address exactly how they made this Slenderman anyway. Flynt said it was an exact likeness.”

            “That’s weird,” Gam muttered. “How could they have gotten so tall?”

            Max said, “We found a large stump in the place where Flynt saw them. When I stood on it, it made me look about the height of Slenderman.”

            “And the fake didn’t move,” I added. “So that supports the stump theory, because it’s not like they would have been able to move that with them.”

            “Okay, height issue solved,” Ohanzee huffed. “What about everything else? The white face, the suit, the tentacles?”

            I shook my head. “There were no tentacles, as far as I could tell. Technically speaking, all the culprit needed was a suit and something to turn their face white.”

            “What about those notes?” Gigi asked. “The ones that Flynt and I found, I mean.”

            “Yeah, good point,” I said. “They had phrases on them like the ones in the _Slender_ game, and poems on the back.”

            “Why poems?” Enoch asked.

            “They came from Pam’s notebook,” I said, frowning. “We found it in the grass next to the pool. The culprit must have ripped paper out of it to use as their fake notes.”

            “That supports the theory that they were rushed,” Haley said. “They wouldn’t have had time to use anything else but what they had. Although… that means that Pam had her book with her. I wonder why.”

            “Okay, that’s great and all,” Jae said, “but what about the other Slenderman stuff, like the suit and white face?”

            “Hmm…” Neil said. “The suit… I’ve been thinking about that. Don’t all of the male students have one?”

            Max nodded. “That’s right. Hope’s Peak requested that all males bring a suit and all females bring a dress. It was for our initiation day, I believe.”

            “So doesn’t that mean that the Slenderman had to be male?” he said.

            “Not necessarily,” Jason said. “But it does mean, at the very least, that the _accomplice_ had to be male. I mean, couldn’t they have just given their suit to a female who was part of the murder?”

            “That seems a bit more open-ended,” I said slowly. “I mean, we don’t know if the accomplice or the culprit was the Slenderman. It could have been either.”

            “I don’t think it matters either way,” Enoch put in. “What matters is who of us had all of the materials to become Slenderman. Which means, in other words, that all of the male students are suspects now.”

            “That’s hardly narrowing down our options,” Gam grumbled.

            “And there’s something wrong with this,” Jae said. “Didn’t we already confirm that the culprit wouldn’t have had enough time to go back to the clearing? So how did they get the suit?”

            Everyone was quiet for a moment, then Dani said, “What if there was a second accomplice?”

            “Meaning that a total of three people were involved in the murder?” Ohanzee said, incredulous. He looked at the rest of us in alarm.

            “That doesn’t seem very likely,” Max murmured. “There’s far too many problems involved with such a theory. The more people you add, the more likely it is that someone would reveal the secret. And anyway, how likely is it that a total of four students got up from bed last night without waking anyone else up? The smaller numbers that we’re dealing with, the more sense it makes.”

            “Still, we can’t rule it out,” I said. “I mean, just in case.”

            “What if the culprit brought their suit with them ahead of time?” Gigi said. Her tone seemed oddly dangerous.

            “What do you mean?” Enoch asked. “If they brought the suit with them, then they could have brought bleach with them as well.”

            She shook her head. “No, I mean they brought it with them for a different reason. Perhaps not even on purpose.” She paused, and then added, “In fact, they could have brought a whole backpack with them.”

            The glassy gaze of her goggles wandered in Buck’s direction. He stiffened. “Actually,” she said, “the backpack in question also contained face paint, if I recall. It was probably intended for camouflage purposes, considering what else was in there. But it could have been used to make one’s skin white. What with all the morning mist, that would have been enough to trick someone into thinking that the person was Slenderman. Isn’t that right, Buck?”

            His face twisted into a sneer. “That’s my hunting equipment, okay? I have hobbies. Get off your fuckin’ high horse.”

            I swallowed and said, “But still, I have to ask. Why did you have that backpack with you during the investigation?”

            “I just had it with me at the time, okay? Are people not allowed to carry around their shit anymore?”

            “That’s hardly a valid argument,” Max said. “And anyway, what Gigi is saying makes sense. You would not have had time during the investigation to return your backpack to your cabin without someone getting suspicious. Your only option was to keep it with you.”

            “Wow, nice theory,” he huffed in response. “It would be great if it wasn’t completely fucking wrong.”

            “And there’s another thing,” I said, though a pang shot through my chest upon realizing it. “Pam was tied to the bed frame using a rope. But there’s no rope in the storage room or anywhere else on the campsite. You had rope in your bag…”

            “Welp, that’s all the evidence I need,” Ohanzee said. “It was Buck.”

            The man himself hesitated, mouth open and looking more than ready to deliver some sort of vile retort. After a brief second of silence, however, he lowered his eyes and growled, “Alright, you win. It was me. I killed her. Congratu-fucking-lations.”

            Calise’s eyes went wide. Haley glanced away. Jae said, “What the hell, man?”

            “What can I say?” he spat. “I wanted the fuck out of here. I’d do whatever it took to reach that goal. But I fucked it up, I guess.”

            He seemed oddly missive. I was going to say something, but then he continued, “You know, it wasn’t even that hard. It was almost… fun, actually, killing someone like that. I don’t regret it. The only downside to this is that I didn’t manage to get it past you fuckers.”

            “Wh-What?” Jason managed.

            “I’d do it again,” he said, then chuckled, voice low. “That is, if I wasn’t going to die now.”

            “Don’t say shit like that!” Ohanzee choked out.

            “All of you deserve to die, as far as I’m concerned.”

            “That’s it,” Enoch snapped, slamming his fist into the podium. “We’re voting _now._ I don’t want to hear another word out of this asshole.”

            “Wait,” I said, never looking away from Buck. “Something’s not right here.”

            Max nodded. “He must be bluffing.”

            “What would make you say that?” Buck said, hoisting some air of superiority. “I’m only stating the fucking facts.”

            “I think we should identify the accomplice before we vote,” I said. “After all… I-Isn’t it possible that we’ve gotten the two mixed up?”

            Ohanzee frowned. “But he just admitted-”

            “He could be lying,” Gigi said softly. “Because if he’s the accomplice and we vote incorrectly, then he gets to live.”

            Buck was silent, expression unreadable. No one spoke as the reality of the situation sunk in. Then Calise said, “A-Are we really sure that’s even relevant? Enoch said it wasn’t.”

            “Actually, I think it is,” Neil spoke up. “I noticed, when we found Pam’s body, there were only two people there when the announcement went off. Aren’t there supposed to be three?”

            “Monobear?” Max asked. “Does an accomplice count as someone seeing the body?”

            “Eh…” the bear looked away, pressing a paw to his garish mouth. “That’s a really big hint! I can’t just hand out information like that!”

            “It’s necessary towards us solving the case,” he said, expressionless.

            “Oh… fine, whatever,” he grumbled. “Yes, the accomplice counts as someone seeing the body. Three people besides the culprit saw the body before I made the announcement, and that’s the truth!”

            “Wait a minute,” Enoch said. “Doesn’t that mean that there can only be one accomplice? If there were more, they would have seen the body as well.”

            “Yes, that’s right,” I said. “Which means that the only people involved in this case were Buck and… someone else.”

            Ohanzee looked excited. “Okay, what else do we got to work with?”

            “Uh… There’s those wounds on Pam’s knuckles,” Jae said. “Though I have no idea how they got there.”

            Enoch blinked. “Huh? I thought those were obvious.”

            “What do you mean?” I asked.

            “Well…” he glanced around. “Obviously they’re scabs. Like the ones you get in a fight. She was punching someone.”

            “Oh,” I said. That made… A lot of sense, actually.

            “But… _Pam?_ ” Dani said. “Beating someone up? There’s no fucking way, right?”

            “Do you have a better explanation?” Jason asked. She didn’t respond.

            “Hmm,” Max hummed suddenly, voice low. “Wait a minute. The wound on Pam’s head was near the back of her skull, correct? Meaning she was hit from behind, yes?”

            “I’d say so, yeah,” Gam said.

            He gestured. “Suppose she were above Buck—on top of him, even—and beating him up. And then the _real_ culprit came up from behind, and...”

            We were quiet for a moment. I closed my eyes briefly, not wanting to come to grips with what I was thinking; but I knew, trapped within that impenetrable silence, that my thoughts had to be the truth. There was no other answer.

            Sighing, I said, “I know who the culprit is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, it's quite clear to me now that this entire Chapter is suffering due to the hiatus I took. This really isn't my best. It's... adequate. But not my best.
> 
> We get our first instance of "Flynt, tell them" in this part. Delivered by Gigi, surprisingly enough. She's full of surprises.
> 
> I'll be the first person to admit that "everyone needed to bring formal wear and that was required but I just never told you before" is a massive cop-out and also total bullshit. I take full responsibility. But unfortunately (without revealing too much) it's actually necessary to the story for more than one reason, so I had to awkwardly shove it in here. Again, this Chapter suffered. But so god help me I will write you the greatest climax inference and execution that I can. I pray that makes up for it.


	12. 2.6 "Gallows"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finishing up Chapter 2 now. I'm really happy with how this one turned out. Deadcanons is back in business.

School Trial Part 2

            I heaved a breath. Everyone was looking at me now, as was to be expected. I didn’t want to say it. I didn’t want to have to sentence yet another person to death, as I’d done with Ryan, but I had no choice. It was them or me. Them or _us._

            Still, my hands shook. I tried to quell them by pressing my palms against the podium and raising my head to focus on the people in front of me. “It was Dani,” I said.

            Everyone turned to look at her. She blinked in surprise, startled and utterly silent for a long moment. Then she lowered her gaze and said, “Heh… How the tables have tabled, right?”

            “This isn’t a fucking joke,” Buck snapped at her, then instantly rounded on me. “This isn’t a _fucking joke_! Don’t make accusations like that.”

            “I’m not kidding,” I shot back, frowning at him. “It’s the only thing that makes sense, isn’t it?” I glanced around. The other students were silent, but no one seemed to be missing my point. If anything, they were simply reluctant to admit it. I was too. “I mean… Let’s say Max is right. Let’s say that Pam really was beating up Buck. The only student here that I know of who would rush to his aid is… Well, her.”

            “That doesn’t mean anything,” Buck snapped. “That’s not evidence, that’s just grasping at fucking straws. You were better off when you had _me_ pegged as her killer.”

            “So you admit that you didn’t do it?” Max asked, almost bored.

            He made a face, then said, “Well, obviously. You’d already proved that. Or do you need me to guide you by hand through every goddamn step of this charade?”

            “No,” I said, bitter. “But a lot of things start to make sense when we mark her as the culprit. You had the supplies to act as Slenderman, and also to tie Pam’s body underwater. Both of you dragged the bed to the pond, then, while Dani took care of the body, you disguised yourself as Slenderman to confuse the rest of us. You had the skill to do it.”

            “I’m a recluse,” he said. “I don’t have the skill to do shit.”

            “Then why did you have that backpack?” I asked.

            “Because a man’s allowed to have a fucking hobby?” he said, then leaned back, as though disinterested. “But that doesn’t mean I’m _good_ at it. You’re just making shit up now.”

            “That was professional equipment. You wouldn’t have it if you didn’t have some semblance of skill.”

            “Shut up, Flynt. You’re making this up. It’s a load of bullshit.”

            “No,” I said, heaving a breath. “I know what happened. Dani came up behind Pam and killed her while she was attacking you.”

            Dani wasn’t saying anything, but Buck’s face had twisted into a snarl. He said, voice low, “If I was being fucking _beaten up_ by some punk little kid like _Pamela,_ then I would have wounds, wouldn’t I?”

            “You’ve already proven your skill with makeup,” I said. “You could have them covered right now.”

            He didn’t say anything. “If I’m wrong,” I said, “then wipe your face right now. Prove it.”

            “Will you shut the fuck up?” he growled. “I don’t have any _fucking wounds_!”

            “Buck,” Dani said softly. “… You’ve got that wrong. You’ve got that wrong, and you know it. Just let it go.”

            He looked stung. He glanced at the others, took in their surprise, and then swiveled his gaze back over to Dani. “Wh-What the fuck are you saying? You tryin’ to say that you believe their fucking lies?”

            “Please Buck,” she murmured. “Just drop the act. It’s easier this way.”

            He hesitated for a brief moment, then curled his hands into fists around the edge of the podium. “You’re fuckin’ bailing on me? You fucking- What the hell, Dani? We were almost fucking out of here!”

            She glanced down and didn’t say anything. When she raised her head again, she was smiling lightly. “I told you, yeah? I can’t do this Buck. I’m not cut out for this kind of thing.”

            He opened his mouth to respond, but then she continued. “I mean, I didn’t want to kill her. None of this was supposed to happen. But it’s all my fault now, and it’s not like I can change that. I don’t want to… I don’t want anyone else to have to die because of my mistake. It’s not right for me to make other people responsible for my actions.”

            I drew a breath. “So… You really…?”

            She nodded. I’d been hoping that I was wrong, but I knew that there was no chance for that now. I could tell by the look in her eyes; her expression seemed to suggest something discarded, as though a chance at retribution had long been forgotten. She knew what came next. Her gaze shook me.

            “But you…” Buck’s breathing was irregular, his eyes narrowed in a strange, skewed sort of rage that I’d never encountered before. “You’d let yourself die… over these fuckers?”

            “It’s better than living a lie,” she said.

            “Wait…” Buck said, a delayed confusion entering his expression.

            Max glowered at him. “Go on, wipe your face. Let’s see if she isn’t lying.”

            He glanced in Dani’s direction, but her gaze offered him no comfort. He was still for a moment before reaching up and gruffly running the palm of his hand across his face. Makeup came off, visible on his skin, revealing dark, bluish bruises underneath. They ran along his lower lip and chin and over the ridges of his nose. He’d clearly taken quite the beating.

            Max looked down. “It seems to be the truth.”

            Gam met my eyes. “Let’s go through the order of events,” she said. “I’m not leaving anything to chance.”

            I nodded, trying not to think about Dani’s condemned expression, or Buck’s horrified rage. “This is what happened…”

~ ~ ~ ~

            _There was dew gathered on the stems of grass guarding the path towards the forest. It balled up at the highest points of the leaves, then gradually dripped back down to the ground in lazy droplets. She liked to pause on occasion and watch it as she walked. Something about the reflection of the water against all of the greenness seemed real to her. And anyway, it saved her from having to think about him._

_She was going to the forest for peace. She hadn’t told anyone when they’d first seen it, but Dani was secretly relieved that they’d been given access to this place. Something about trees and nature and foliage was a great comfort to her. She liked to climb up into the boughs of the trees and forget that the rest of the world existed for a little while. She wasn’t running, though. It was easier to take her time. She knew herself; if she got too heated, she would lose control. She would stop thinking. That was definitely something she didn’t want._

_So thoughtful was she that it took her a moment to hear the padding footsteps behind her. She turned immediately when she noticed them, expecting the frazzled and angry face of Buck, but was surprised to see Pamela instead. She stopped walking and waited for the smaller girl to approach._

_Pamela heaved a deep breath. “Hi… Are you okay?”_

_She blinked. “Yeah. I was just- No, I’m fine.”_

_Pamela narrowed her eyes. “I don’t believe you. You’re just saying that.”_

_“Yeah,” she huffed. “But we all do that, right? Tell people we’re fine when we really aren’t. Even when it’s obvious. I wonder why people do that.”_

_She studied Dani for a moment, then said, “What were you and Buck arguing about?”_

_She sighed. “It was… he was planning a murder. But he needed my help to do it. He wanted us to team up and kill someone… Because of Monobear’s motive, I guess he thought… but no, I wouldn’t do that. Not ever.”_

_Pamela nodded. “I believe you. And… I’m sure he’ll come around. I bet he really likes you. He just needs to get some stuff figured out, I think.”_

_“You’re probably right,” she said. She was quiet for a moment, then added, “Hey, Pam. You’re pretty good at this comforting stuff, yeah? I’m impressed.”_

_She shrugged slightly, looking away and shoving her hands into her hoodie. “A lot of people don’t expect it from me, I guess. Because I act, er, shy, or whatever. But, um… It’s a good skill to have, I think. So I learned it.”_

_Dani grinned, impulsive. “Thanks. I just wanna be alone for a bit, but… Thanks.”_

_After Pamela left, however, Dani felt her strength dwindle once more. She didn’t trust the situation. How could she know what Buck was going to do, now that she wasn’t there? He was unpredictable and often reckless, and she knew that better than anyone else. Her thoughts were plagued with worry._

_That night, Dani couldn’t sleep. In her head, she saw Buck—Buck with knives, Buck with bullets, Buck with blood-soaked rags of lies and death-drenched articles of his own design; his killing time. It shook her. Everything shook her these days. In a place like this, everything was a reason to be afraid, and she was the one who fell prey to every twist and turn. There was no threat that she wasn’t susceptible to._

_Maybe, if she had possessed the tenacity to stay in her cabin, none of this would have happened. But tenacity was not something that she had. She was weak, and tired, and restless; so she went out into the forest to think. She believed that she could have found a sense of peace amongst the trees and finally be able to close her eyes._

_She was wrong._

_Dani had been walking along the edge of the main path in the forest for but a few minutes before the sound of distant voices reached her ears. She hesitated. She didn’t want anyone to know that she was out here, but at the same time she was deeply intrigued. After a brief period of consideration, she crouched down and slipped into the shrubbery, moving diagonally away from the path to approach the voices._

_Her heart rammed into her chest as she grew closer. The voices were loud; insistent. Bordering on angry. She found herself, on impulse, eager to acquire a means of defense; half-hidden in the grass was a long, thick tree branch. She hefted it, testing the weight on her palm, and then quietly slunk forward._

_At length, Buck and Pamela came into view. Buck was standing ahead of Pamela on the path, a few feet away. He had an expensive-looking black backpack slung over one shoulder, and was glaring at her in earnest. In her hands she clutched a small, weather-beaten journal. Dani crouched and waited._

_“Listen, okay?” he was saying. “I know I fucked up. I said some really fucked up things in there, right? But I want to apologize to her, okay? So can you just talk to her for me?”_

_Pamela’s eyes were narrowed, and she wouldn’t meet Buck’s. “And say what?”_

_He gestured, hapless. “I don’t fucking know. You were talking to her yesterday—I saw you. It looks like you calmed her down. Just do that again, but make me sound good while you’re at it.”_

_“I-I don’t think it’s right of me to try and twist her opinion like that…”_

_“Look,” he said, voice firm. As Dani watched, he slipped the backpack off of his shoulder and pulled it open; from within he retrieved a hunting knife that glinted in the pale moonlight. Dani swallowed. “We’re gonna murder someone, okay? I want to get out of here. If you help me, you can join us.”_

_Pamela hesitated. She took a small step back. “But you just- You gave away your plan…”_

_He flexed his jaw. “It’s ‘cause it’s a good one. You can’t not fucking go for it. It’s too good of a chance.”_

_“Uh… no,” she said softly. “I don’t want to kill someone.”_

_Dani could see the frustration painted on his face, but he nevertheless persisted. “Well what do you want then? I have to repay you, don’t I?”_

_“No, you don’t understand,” she murmured. “I don’t want to do any part of your plan. If you want to make up with Dani, just talk to her yourself.”_

_His fingers flexed around the knife, realizing his own error. “But you- You know my plan now. You have to go with it.”_

_She shook her head. “No. No one is killing anyone.”_

_He was quiet for a brief moment. Then, cursing, he tossed the knife into his backpack, threw it to the side, and rounded on Pamela. “Listen here, you fucker. I’m getting out of here and I’m doing it with Dani. If you don’t like that, then how ‘bout you be the fucking victim?”_

_Dani expected her to run, but she did nothing of the sort. If anything, she seemed to brace herself for his attack, tossing her journal to the side. He reached out and grabbed her around one shoulder to keep her still, then lifted his other hand to go in for the punch. She was ready for it, however. As he swung down, she grabbed his fist with the adjacent hand and wrapped her other arm around the one clutching her shoulder. When he tried to pull away, she brought her knee up and gored him in the groin._

_He doubled over in pain, but still Pamela didn’t run. Instead, she pressed both palms to his shoulders and shoved him onto the ground, on his back. With what was almost an air of grace she then fell atop him and punched him in the face._

_“No one is dying!” she screamed at him. “I won’t let anyone else die! If you’re so eager to get out of here, then you would be trying to work with us, not against us. Stop it with this stupid plan of yours!”_

_He grunted in response, so she brought her fist down and hit him again. “Dani will never forgive you if you keep trying to do this. Stop!”_

_She punched him again. Then again, and again, and again. The speed of her assault quickened. She was an eddy of utter rage; a maelstrom of fury and destruction. No one could ever have imagined that Pamela could have been like this, considering the way she usually acted; and yet here she was, in the midst of a case of bloodlust. It was eerily frightening._

_A strange, inexplicable_ something _came over Dani. Suddenly, her role as bystander seemed pitiable and wrong. Suddenly, she was not a confused teenager watching other confused teenagers lose their heads. Suddenly, she was watching her best friend have the lights beaten out of him. Suddenly, she remembered all the reasons that she’d become friends with him in the first place, and how sad she was to see that go. She did not stop to think. She did not slow down. With an elegance that betrayed her, she lunged from the bushes, darted up behind Pamela, and struck her across the head with the branch in her hand._

_The smaller girl was hit with one fist raised—she fell to the side almost too quickly, and Dani knew that something was wrong, but she wasn’t thinking clearly. She just wanted to knock her out, right? That’s what she’d done, right?_

_Buck sat up slowly, groaning. He pushed Pamela’s limp form to the side and scooted backwards, a grimace planted on his face. Blood ran in thick rivulets from beneath his nose and across his mouth, pooling at the base of his chin. There was another dark line falling from just beneath his lips. He spat red, dragged the back of his hand across his mouth, and then let his gaze flick up to Dani. He hesitated for a brief moment before saying, “Thanks. She was really goin’ to fucking town on me.”_

_Dani didn’t know how to respond. She thought she should check on Pamela; the girl was lying next to Buck’s feet like a discarded toy, crumpled in on herself as if she were a ragdoll. It disturbed Dani. In her head, she truly wanted to believe that she was unconscious, but long before she had even made contact with Pamela’s skin she could see the thin pool of blood beneath her head and knew that she wouldn’t find a heartbeat._

_Buck could tell something was wrong from her disturbed silence. He shifted in the dirt. “Hey…”_

_“She’s dead,” Dani heard herself say._

_They were both silent for a long, seemingly endless moment. Crickets chirped in a late night chorus. Moonlight spilled over Dani’s hands like the blood that spilled from Pamela’s head. She couldn’t bring herself to move. Finally, Buck said, “I-It’s okay. This is okay. We can get out of this shithole now. All we have to do is disguise the murder, and-”_

_“Shut the_ fuck _up!” she screamed. “Someone is dead._ Pamela _is dead and it’s your fault!”_

_He blinked, startled. “You’re the one who hit her.”_

_She looked down. She didn’t know what to think anymore. “I just didn’t w-want you to get hurt…”_

_Again, a moment of silence. Again, he was the one to break it. “You have no choice now,” he said. “We have to do this.”_

_It wasn’t true. They had the option to turn themselves in, and she knew it—but she was afraid and confused and she could no longer tell right from wrong. So she did as she was instructed; she picked up Pamela’s body and followed him to the pond, and along the way he explained his plan. They would tie Pamela underwater, to tamper with the body and make it look as though she had drowned. They would hide the murder weapon and her journal. And then, using his hunting supplies, Buck would disguise himself as Slenderman to confuse the other students._

_They carried the bed frame from the U-Haul together. It took a terribly long time, navigating through the twisting trees in the dark, but nevertheless they hardly spoke. When they returned, there wasn’t much time left. Dani set to tearing pages from Pamela’s journal and scribbling any Slenderman-esque phrase she could think of on the other side, while Buck retired to the trees to get into his costume. At length he returned, wearing a suit with his face painted white._

_“It’ll work at a distance,” he said, almost apologetically, before taking the notes from Dani. “The sun’s going to come up soon. We need to get started.”_

_She tried to think of something to say—something that could convey all of the emotions twisting through her system; the sick knot of guilt that had lodged itself into her chest. There had to be something—anything—she could say to him to make the two of them feel better. But there was nothing. Nothing but the ill feeling crawling up her esophagus. “Okay,” she said._

_She knew what to do next. As Buck turned on his heel and darted out of the clearing, she raised her head and screamed as loud as she could._

_It felt good. It felt incredible to open up her chest and howl into the unforgiving wind. This was all her fault and there was nothing she could do about it. She could play along with Buck’s plan and mess with the crime scene and confuse her friends, but in the end she knew it wouldn’t change anything. They would find the truth and that would be the end of her._

_Satisfied that her screaming must have woken someone up, she began setting up the pond. The bed frame was already half in the water, partially thrown in by Buck so that it wouldn’t leave any drag marks. He’d tied the coil of rope at both ends, from Pamela’s left ankle to the middle of the bed frame, and laid her body out across it so that it would be out of the way. She could have been sleeping. Dani could have been dreaming._

_If only._

_She got onto her knees and tightly gripped the front of the bed frame. It creaked slightly under her pressure, but didn’t quite move yet. She wasn’t really trying, anyway. Pamela was already dead, but pushing her into the water like this felt as though it were some sort of final step in a complex and ludicrous ritual. Pamela wouldn’t be_ truly _dead until she was in that water. That was how Dani felt, at least._

_She was oddly numb. When she thought of death—of killing—she’d always imagined it as some sort of spectacle. Something accompanied with tears and screaming and pain. But Pamela had died with almost laughable ease. And now Dani had accepted her fate with that same ease._

_She pushed forward._

_The same ease that it took to slip into a pool of water._

_There was little splash as Pamela and the bed descended. The frame hit the sandy bottom, disturbing it and bringing up smoky clouds in the water, while Pamela herself attempted to float upwards, only to be caught by the rope while still beneath the surface. A trail of red began to dissipate into the water. Pamela’s hair floated outwards, obscuring her face: for that, Dani was grateful. She didn’t want to look into the eyes of the girl she had killed. That might be enough to break her numbness._

_As she stood up, she could hear distant noises in the forest. The others were definitely awake. Had they seen Buck yet? Did they recognize him, or was he lucky enough to have his scheme last that much longer? Either way, she should be away from here. She wanted to confess to the others, but not like this. Not yet._

_She took a circular path through the forest, figuring she would wait until the body announcement had passed before she made any sort of an appearance. She tried to think of a good and proper way to explain what she had done to the others, but there was nothing. Her actions were unforgivable. She had spilled the blood of another, and deserved to be condemned to death, just as they were._

_But of course, she wouldn’t tell Buck that. Not until it was too late for him to stop her._

_He meant well, and cared for her more than Dani could hope to understand. She had always been aware of his presence, of the way he felt; just like her, he knew they were connected. They had been able to tell since the very first day. But it was clear now that they wouldn’t be able to live through this. That mystery would more than likely die with her._

_She supposed that she was probably afraid, but for some reason the emotion wasn’t reaching her properly. It felt incredibly distant to her, as though she were watching all of this happen to someone else. There would be an investigation. A trial. The other students would put the pieces together and realize her deception. She would apologize. She would die. That was all that was left for someone like her now; someone as terrible and messed up as to lose their head and commit murder. Nothing remained but the gallows._

_The body announcement went off, and it was only then that the despair truly set in._

~ ~ ~ ~

            As I finished my speech, my eyes wandered in Dani’s direction. Her head was lowered, hair falling across her face, hands clasped together in front of her. As I watched, her shoulders shook slightly—and she raised her head just a fraction of an inch to show a small smile playing on her lips.

            “I-I’m so fucking stupid, aren’t I? You all must think I’m… deplorable, or something. Only a p-piece of shit like me would kill someone… over something as stupid as a fist fight. A-And I treated you all so terribly just because I thought I had some sort of ‘special connection’ with Buck… G-Give me a break.”

            “No, Dani, you’re not…” Haley began, but trailed off, as she didn’t seem to know what to say.

            “Special connection?” Gigi asked, voice softer than usual.

            Dani looked up. Tear tracks ran from her eyes. “On the night when Olivia died… I didn’t go to the sleepover because I wanted to talk with Buck. He seemed… He was familiar to me. And w-when we talked, we agreed that we had to have known each other from before. We were like b-brother and sister.”

            “Dani…” Calise said, looking down.

            Buck slammed his fist into the podium suddenly, motion so brusque that I could feel the vibration through the wood. When I looked over, I was stunned to see that there was a darkness in his eyes, as well—but it was not his usual rage. It was a look of utter sadness. “This is fucking stupid! She didn’t- It wasn’t her fault! This is all my responsibility!”

            “Alright,” Monobear said, his voice cutting into the conversation like a steel blade. “I think you all have reached a conclusion. It’s time to vote!”

            “Wait!” Buck yelled, but it was already far too late. The result of the vote was, of course, Dani.

            “Nicely done!” Monobear said, and his grin seemed to widen. “You’re right again. Pamela was murdered by Dani.”

            We all stepped back from our podiums. It was as though a great weight had been removed from us, but that didn’t make the situation any less unpleasant. Dani was still scheduled for death, and we were still no better than her executors. She herself seemed to have trouble moving away from her podium, as though being disconnected from it would be all it took to end her life. Buck hadn’t moved at all.

            “Wait,” he said, voice firm despite the tremor it held. “Just wait a fucking minute, you fucking bear. She can be saved, right? I can stop her from dying, right? All I have to do is volunteer to take her place. _Right?_ ”

            His paw hovered in front of his mouth, uncharacteristically hesitant. “Eh…”

            “Let me do it, damnit!” he all but screamed, fingers digging into the wood. “Kill me instead!”

            “Well, uh…” he glanced away suddenly, waving his paw at Buck. “The school rules don’t explicitly state that as fair play, so it’s not like I can-”

            “You _fucker_!” Suddenly Buck was crying. It was abrupt and sudden and without any warning. One moment he was all rage and determination, and in the next he had collapsed in on himself; like a supernova, like the big bang, like reality itself had fallen apart. The podium shook as his fist made contact with it. “ _Fuck! She was my only friend and now you’re gonna fucking kill her-!_ ”

            Moving faster than I could have anticipated, he darted around the corner of the courtroom and made to lunge at Monobear—but Gigi stopped him. Both arms wrapped around his middle and over his shoulders, he writhed and struggled in her grasp, but she held him fast. She was utterly expressionless. It might have just been because of the goggles, but this time I wasn’t so sure. This time it truly seemed as though she was devoid of emotion.

            Dani was still standing next to her podium, several feet away from the rest of us. As Buck finally gave into Gigi, breaths forcing their way out of him in heavy sobs, she turned to face us and wiped away her tears. “Thanks for… standing up for me like that…” she said to him, shaky but composed. “That’s the kind of thing that brothers and sisters are supposed to do, right? Support each other like that… Maybe it was right of me… to be your friend. I’m sorry.”

            He gave one last halfhearted tug in an attempt to get away from Gigi, and then gave in, slumping to his knees. “This is my fault. Why can’t he just kill me instead…?”

            “Eh, I think that’s quite enough of your goodbyes,” Monobear said, stepping down from his throne. “It’s punishment time, y’know!”

            Dani seemed to know what to do. She turned on her heel, hands held together, and walked in silence to the part of the wall that had opened up when Ryan was executed. It slid away, but this time no metal claw shot out: Dani didn’t need to be pulled to her death, anyway.

            “Dani Mannarino has been found guilty,” the bear hummed. “Commencing execution: Blog Inspection.”

            We ran out onto the metal balcony overlooking the arena. I was just in time to see Dani reach the railing; two metal clamps, spindly and spider-like, descended from the ceiling and grabbed her by her shirt. She writhed in fear, but their grip was solid. With a mechanical efficiency, the clamps carried her high above the center of the arena, and a spotlight clicked on, focused on her suspended form. Buck shoved past me and leaned out past the railing, as though trying to reach her.

            More arms descended, but these were not clamps; they were long, fingerlike appendages that reached out and fixated themselves around her face and limbs, adjusting her pose until she was suspended with her arms and legs spread out, her head forced to look forward. They held her in place while yet another arm descended, this one with a screen attached to it. The screen flicked on with the words _BLOG INSPECTION_ in bright red. It then opened up to a menu, constructed like a checklist, with several different topics.

            The first topic lit up. It read, _GOOD URL?_ , a question that stayed there for several seconds before a loud, angry buzzer sounded in my ears. A red X appeared in the checkbox—and then, before but a second had passed, a spear shot through the arena and embedded itself in Dani’s arm.

            She gasped in pain, but had the common sense to not try and move. It would only have hurt her more. Another topic had lit up. This one read _GOOD ICON?_ in the same bright, imposing lettering as before. Again, a buzzer went off, and an X made its appearance in the box. A spear drove into her left leg.

            It was torturous to watch, but just like before, I couldn’t look away. It felt akin to turning my back on her in her final moments; I didn’t have the strength to do something so cruel. Buck, it seemed, felt similarly. He watched her in wide-eyed horror, unable to move and unable to escape.

            The next topic was _GOOD THEME?._ The buzzer sounded, horribly loud, and an X appeared, followed by another spear that flung into her other arm. She was shaking with pain, but the clamps held her firmly in place. A fourth topic lit up: _GOOD TAGS?._ The hollow clank of the buzzer did nothing to mask the noise of the spear as it whizzed through the air and found purchase in her final remaining limb.

            The last topic lit up with the words _GOOD POSTS?_ , but the menu changed before a decision could be reached. Suddenly the screen showed a Tumblr dashboard, with a single post at the top of the queue, ready to be submitted. It was a text post, with nothing but the words “PLEASE STOP THIS” written in capital letters. The clamps adjusted and bent to raise Dani’s arm up to the screen and click the button to make the post. It appeared on the dashboard, and then the checklist menu popped up again.

            There was the terrible ring of the buzzer once more, and then an X appeared under the final topic. Clearly Dani’s newest post was not appreciated. The arm that was holding the screen twisted upwards and disappeared, only to reappear without the screen—instead, in its metallic grasp, was one more spear. With robotic finality, it drew the spear back and then plunged it forward; straight through Dani’s heart.

            She was still. The arms withdrew, and the clamps slowly lowered her out of sight, into the dark arena below. Buck screamed—a loud, long, empty sound that reverberated against the domed walls and filled my head with a ringing, aching pain. I felt dizzy. I felt conflicted. I didn’t know what to think or say anymore. It seemed like his scream would never end; a sound that extended to the end of time, infinite and irreparable, and filled with the melancholy and despair of a wound that could never be mended.

~ ~ ~ ~

            We walked back to the campsite in one group. Gigi walked alongside Buck, guiding him; he seemed defeated now, and did not resist her assistance. Back in my cabin, I sat awake on my bed with the lantern on, casting long shadows over the ceiling. I couldn’t shake the sound of his scream from my head. I wondered if I would ever be able to sleep again.

            Time passed. To my surprise, I heard a sudden knock at my door. I hesitated, and the person knocked again. Swinging my feet off of my bed, I stood and walked to the door, pulling it open. Gam was standing at the threshold, expression oddly apologetic.

            “I saw you had your lantern on,” she said. “And I couldn’t sleep. So I thought… Fuck, I don’t know what I thought. You know what? I’ll just go. Forget this ever happened.”

            “No, wait,” I said, stepping to the side. “It’s fine, come in.”

            She wandered almost forlornly into my cabin, hands shoved into her jacket. “Got anywhere in particular you want me to sit?”

            I shook my head.

            She forked an eyebrow at me, then sauntered over to my table, hopped up onto it, and propped her feet up, leaning back against the wall. “I’m worried about Buck,” she said, tone raw and casual, as though she were making a passing comment about how disappointed she was with the weather.

            “Me too,” I said.

            “Actually, quick anecdote: I’m worried about everyone.” She glanced my way, quiet for a brief moment. “Something weird is going on, Flynt. Something’s not right.”

            “Besides the obvious?” I asked, a little flustered.

            She nodded. “This isn’t the crazy whim of some fucked-up sociopath. This was planned. Choreographed. Put through a long and detailed process. I mean, just look at those executions—they were clearly tailored to fit the person being killed. This was no accident. Everything that’s happened here so far has happened on purpose.”

            “You really think so?” I said. I was still standing near the door, hovering uncertainly within my own cabin. I didn’t know the proper way to act anymore.

            “Absolutely,” she growled. Her expression then softened, almost imperceptibly so. “Monobear was talking to me during the investigation. He said there’s a traitor among us.”

            “What?” My eyes went wide. “Do you think he was serious?”

            She made a face. “Yes. Like I said before, everything that’s happened so far has been deliberate. I don’t think he has a reason to lie to us—yet.”

            I looked down, gears turning in my head. “But why only you? Why didn’t he tell everyone?”

            She shrugged slightly, then said, “I think he’s trying to stir up distrust between us. I think, for whatever reason, he thought that I would be the best target for a strong case of paranoia. He’s probably right. I mean, I’ve already tried to kill someone once.”

            “You really think he would have done that? Try to make us afraid of one another?”

            “Of course. He’s fuckin’ Monobear,” she said, and then smiled. “But that’s why I’m telling you. No distrust, right? Now I’m not the only one who knows.”

            I returned her smile, but it faded quickly as I leaned back against the door. “A traitor, huh… That would be really bad.”

            “No shit,” she said, then paused for a moment, as though choosing her next words carefully. “I don’t want to sound like I’m contradicting myself, but maybe we shouldn’t tell anyone else just yet. I mean, we don’t know who’s who or what’s what.”

            I nodded, then said, “But why me?”

            She swung her legs off of the table. “I dunno. ‘Something about you. You’ve got this…” she gestured. “…Aura, or something like that. I don’t think you’re the traitor.”

            “Well, that’s good,” I said, “Because I’m not. And don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone yet. Thank you for confiding in me.”

            She grinned before getting up. “My pleasure, kid. See you in the morning.”

            The new information Gam had provided, despite its frightening implications, was oddly consoling for me. I was surprised by how profoundly comforted I felt by the fact that she’d thought I was a good person to have faith in. Suddenly, Buck’s screaming didn’t seem quite so loud in my ears. Lulled, I gradually drifted into a light sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "His killing time" is a reference to a Florence and the Machine song; namely, "Heavy in Your Arms."
> 
> The whole metaphor with Dani walking to the gallows is a reference to her obsession with Terezi Pyrope.
> 
> This execution is loosely based off of a theoretical execution for Dani that Gam came up with. Originally I was going to use the exact same one, but then it occurred to me how truly perfect I could make it if I just tweaked a few things. I'm really, really happy with how it turned out.
> 
> You also probably noticed that I gave this execution a name: Blog Inspection. I wanted to do the same thing for Ryan's but I couldn't think of anything good enough. I'm open to suggestions, if anyone has any.


	13. 3.1 "Duraluminous"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm very excited about Chapter 3. For a lot of reasons.

CHAPTER 3: THE INFERNO

(Ab)normal Days Part 1

            The next morning, we all gathered near the firepit, expecting Monobear to make an appearance. There were, after all, a few more gates still locked around the entire campsite, and we all agreed that it was very likely he would open up another one for us. While we were waiting, however, I could tell that something was off.

            Gam nudged me on the shoulder, the others deep in conversation. “Buck isn’t here,” she murmured.

            I frowned at her. “I was just thinking about that. What should we do?”

            In response, she turned and called to the others, “Hey assholes! Any a’ you seen Buck since last night?”

            There was a moment of silence as everyone exchanged questioning glances. Jae turned to face Gam. “The general response I think we’re trying to convey here is ‘no.’”

            “Someone should check on him,” she said, then paused before adding, “I mean, in theory, it was probably pretty stupid of us to leave him alone last night. Who knows how far his pathological breakdowns have taken him since then.”

            “I can go look,” I offered. “Monobear will probably have shown up by then, but I don’t think it will be very hard for me to figure out where we need to go.”

            “I’ll come with,” Gigi piped up, both hands clasped together over the top of her closed umbrella.

            Gam nodded. “Sounds like a plan. If there’s something wrong, just… I don’t know, do whatever Flynts do to solve problems.”

            Gigi swung her umbrella over her shoulder and set off towards the cabins at a brisk pace. I turned to follow her until I felt a hand on my shoulder; it was Gam, expression oddly questioning. “While you’re at it, maybe you should, you know, keep an eye on Gigi. See if she does anything suspicious.”

            For a brief moment I was confused, but then I remembered my conversation with Gam last night. She probably wanted to check and see if Gigi was the traitor; in theory, it was more than likely. It was likely for _any_ of us to be the traitor. I quickly nodded at Gam before jogging to catch up with my charge, her blanket buffeting out behind her shoulders like some kind of cape.

            Gigi led the way down the path to the cabins in silence. Everything was still in the early morning, with small patches of mist floating briefly past us and long stretches of sunlight illuminating the ground in sections. Abruptly, she spoke. “Are you alright?”

            “Huh?” I said, blinking. “Yeah, I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

            She turned to watch me. A finger played at her lips. “You seem… contemplative.”

            I glanced away. Her level of perception was unnerving—or was I just that easy to read? “I’m just worried about Buck,” I said. It wasn’t a lie. We were all worried about him. “I don’t know what he’s going to do now that Dani’s gone.”

            “Well then,” she said, smile amicable. “It’s a good thing that we’re here.”

            Buck’s cabin was at the very end of the path, close to the farthest end of the electric fence. Gigi stepped up to the threshold and rapped on his door with the back of her hand. We waited for some time, but there was no response. She knocked again. The only reply we received was the distance cry of birds breaking through the still, empty air.

            She opened her mouth, supposedly to call his name, but then paused and half-turned to face me. “Mm… something’s wrong.”

            “I know,” I said. “He’s not answering.”

            “No,” she shook her head, oddly expressionless because of her goggles. But I could see that her body was tense, limbs rigid with focus. “It’s something else. Listen.”

            I listened. Everything was completely, irrevocably silent. Annoyed, I said, “What, do you have a cat’s hearing or something?”

            In response, she hopped away from Buck’s cabin and trotted over to the electric fence. Before I could stop her, she lifted up her umbrella and thumped it against the chain link. “It’s turned off. The fence is off.”

            I walked over; the usual humming wasn’t present, which explained Gigi’s concern. I tentatively tapped it with a finger. The fence was slightly warm, but definitely not electric. “You’re right. I guess this must be the new area that Monobear is going to unlock for us.”

            “Hmm?” she frowned. “What makes you think that?”

            “On the night when Pam died, I went around my cabin in case the scream was coming from there. The fence in between the cabins and the forest was shut off.”

            She smiled, then threw her hands up. “Impurr-essive sleuthing, Flynt! Now all we have to do is wait here for the other students to arrive!”

            “Since when did you start using cat puns?” I asked, but I was grinning.

            Sure enough, the other students appeared at the top of the path, led by Monobear. As he approached, he waved, acting oddly ecstatic. “I’ve been looking for you two. Have you been avoiding me? That would really hurt my feelings, you know!”

            “We’ve been looking for Buck,” Gigi said.

            “Eh? He’s missing?” The bear pressed a paw to his mouth, looking around. “I didn’t even notice. Haha, I guess that’s what you get for being a recluse! Well, I hope he isn’t dead! How sad it would be if he offed himself in the middle of the night, eh? Even _I_ didn’t see it!”

            Max made a face. “If you’re so interested, then perhaps you would do us the courtesy of opening up his cabin.”

            He walked away, towards the fence, pushing it open with one paw. “But I’ve, eh, already opened this fence for you, right? I can’t just go around opening things whenever you ask. There’s no point in the reward if you take out the risk! We might as well all lie down and die if we’re not going to do things the right way, y’know?”

            After the bear left, we all split up to explore, though I got the impression that many people were still thinking about Buck more than anything else. As I walked past the fence and into the new territory, I expected the landscape to change as it had done before, but everything stayed more or less uniform. There were still plenty of trees around, however, and the grass was overgrown in thick clumps. I was surprised when the dirt path suddenly became a paved concrete one that extended throughout the length of the area. It was quite clear that this place had been much more well-maintained than any other location I’d seen so far at the campsite; it was strange to me to see something so modern after all this time.

            On either side of the pavement were short wooden stakes, coming up to just over my knees and marking out the path. The sidewalk led, quite directly, to one large wooden building surrounded by small grass yards on all sides. The double front doors were dark, rich mahogany and towered high above my head; I pushed one open and walked inside.

            The front foyer was wide and impressive. The floors were smooth, polished wood and the walls were decorated with furs, pictures of massive fish hanging on hooks, and stuffed animal heads. There were cobwebs in many of the corners and clinging to most of the picture frames, and a thick layer of dust drifted over everything, but I hardly noticed. I spun in a circle, looking around, and noted a huge elk head mounted over the doorway, like some sort of ultimate trophy.

            “Isn’t this place cool?” A voice spoke behind me. I turned to see Jae standing in a nearby doorway, arms crossed over his and/or her chest. “It’s a hunting lodge, I think.”

            I nodded. “I would agree with you, on both accounts. I guess people used to go hunting here, back when this place was in business.”

            S/he nodded at the elk head. “Yeah, they sure did. Well, anyway, this place is massive. They’ve even got some sort of ballroom deal going on. Come look.”

            I followed them through the doorway to find myself in a wide, empty room. A dirty chandelier hung from the roof and little candle tapers decorated the walls at intervals. Calise was sitting up on a cloth-covered table in the back of the room, looking around with an oddly content expression.

            “Hi Flynt,” she said as I walked up. “This place is awesome. We could have a party in here!”

            Jae stood behind me. “It’s not a bad idea. It could be fun.”

            I made a face, concerned. “Yeah, that does sound nice… But you know how Monobear is. He would find a way to ruin it.”

            “That _is_ a good point…” Calise trailed off.

            “And anyway, a ball?” I said. “I mean, I don’t want to sound rude, but I don’t think a lot of the students here aren’t into that kind of thing.”

            Jae nudged me. “No, you’re totally right. A ball would be completely fucking gay. That’s why we’d do a masquerade instead.”

            “A… But where would we-?”

            “I’m way ahead of you,” the small, gender-nonspecific pronoun said, grabbing my arm. “Come see.”

            I was led out into the foyer, then to the right to another, smaller door. Inside was nothing but a large rack filled with masquerade masks of all colors, shapes, and designs. I blinked in shock. “Woah… What are all of these doing here?”

            “Beats me,” Jae muttered, crossing his (?) arms again. “Maybe this place had some annual party or something. Who knows? But the point is, we could use them.”

            “Yeah, I guess,” I sighed. “But really, the last thing we should be worrying about right now is parties. Especially with Monobear listening.” I glanced over at a security camera in the corner of the room to emphasize my point. His eyes were always on us.

            Jae huffed. “Alright you spoil-sport, I get it. Just an idea.”

            After that, I headed back out into the foyer to get a better look around. There were two floors to the hunting lodge; at the end of the foyer was a long, wide staircase leading up. To start with, I checked out the other rooms on the first floor. On the right side was the ballroom, the room with the masks, and then a set of male bathrooms—with proper, modern-day toilets, but still no plumbing. None of them would flush and the sinks stayed pointedly dry. On the left side was some sort of waiting room or concierge, a small library, and the female bathrooms.

            I made my way up the stairs, all white with a sculpted handrail, only to run into Gam on the landing. “Hey,” she said.

            “Hi.”

            She was quiet for a moment, then continued: “There’s just rooms up here, if you were wondering. It’s like a hotel. Well, it’s a lodge, actually, but not everyone knows what a lodge is, so I thought a hotel would be a valid comparison. I mean, that is to say, I don’t think that you don’t know what a lodge is. You probably _do_ know what a lodge is. If you don’t know what a lodge is, then this all probably seemed very courteous to you, but otherwise I must seem like a massive dick. Isn’t that weird, how perspective changes everything? Suddenly it’s a new game. New bullshit to deal with. Weird, huh?”

            I blinked. “Are you okay?”

            She blinked back. “Yeah, I’m fine. Why d’you ask?”

            “Well it’s just- You were ranting.”

            She sighed, glancing away. “Sorry. Nervous, I guess. I just get stressed out, y’know? All of that sass turns into… ass…? Fuck that was the worst joke I’ve ever made. Pretend I didn’t say that.”

            I couldn’t help but grin. “Consider it forgotten.”

            “Any read on Gigi?” she asked, looking more than a little eager to change the subject.

            I looked away, hesitant. “Uh… I don’t know. She was acting all weird and questionable, but in that good way. You know, just like normal. I’m sorry, don’t really know what I’m looking for.”

            “Me neither,” she said, then scoffed. “Looks like Monobear achieved his goal anyway. We’re sitting here all stressed out and paranoid, just like what he wanted.”

            “Maybe we should tell the others,” I murmured.

            She pressed her lips together, glancing away and nodding slightly. “Probably. But not yet. Let’s hold off for now.”

            “Okay,” I said.

            Just as Gam had said, the upstairs was nothing but small lodge rooms, about the same quality as the cabins that we were currently sleeping in. I headed downstairs and exited the lodge from the back, as that was where the sidewalk continued. Walking along the path, I saw that it forked up ahead. To the left was a metal building, and to the right, another wooden one, much smaller than the lodge. I chose the left at random, pulling open the door to the metal building.

            Inside was cool and well-insulated, with pale fake grass coating the ground. I stared at in surprise before raising my head; I appeared to be in a training room of some sort. Next to me was a counter, probably where the customers had made purchases. On the farthest wall were racks of wooden training swords and other similar weaponry, as well as protective gear. Enoch was over there, inspecting some of the wares. Much closer to me, however, was Haley; in the first half of the building were rows of archery targets as well as arrows, bows, armguards, and other equipment.

            Haley was standing at the 15-meter line in front of a target, arrow just notched. I watched as she raised the bow and lowered her shoulders, eyes and arrow focused on the target ahead of her. With one soft, almost imperceptible breath, she released; the arrow plunged into the target, just above the bullseye.

            “Nice one,” I said.

            She started, spinning around to face me, then forced her expression to one of disinterest. “It was okay. I’m out of practice.”

            I smiled. “I thought it was great.”

            She looked like she was trying to formulate some sort of response, but instead she just glanced away. “At least I have somewhere to practice now. These are some nice facilities.”

            I couldn’t help but get the impression that she was somehow embarrassed by her title, but I didn’t press the subject. Instead, I said, “So everything works?”

            “As far as I’m aware,” she said with a shrug. “I haven’t really checked any of the close combat stuff—but Enoch’s been over there for a while, so maybe he can tell you something.”

            “Okay, thanks. Have fun.”

            I wandered across the length of the building to the other side. Enoch was brandishing a short sword, taking on an unpracticed battle stance and throwing around some mock swings. Not entirely certain that he wouldn’t hit me on accident, I made sure to call out a greeting while I was still several feet away.

            He raised his head, watching me approach. “Hi Flynt.”

            “You look like you’re having fun,” I said.

            “Quite the contrary,” he growled. “I’m bored out of my fucking _mind._ All of my handhelds are dead—well, at least the good ones are—and it’s not like I have a TV to work with. Also, did you know there’s no soda on this campsite? _No soda._ Not even Mountain Dew, and that shit is, like, required. This is total bullshit.”

            “Mountain Dew really isn’t that great,” I said slowly.

            He pointed the practice sword at my nose. “You take that back.”

            “You don’t even know how to use that.”

            He looked enraged. “It doesn’t take a fucking degree to smack someone around with a piece of wood, Flynt! Would you like a demonstration?”

            I struggled to avoid rolling my eyes. “I’m good, thanks. Anyway, what do you think of the equipment here?”

            “Do I look like a sword expert to you, Flynt? Do I look like the kind of person that likes to play around with glorified dildos? No, that’s right, no. I don’t look like that kind of person. I look like the kind of person that could give you a college-level thesis paper on the cheat codes in classic Mario. But there’s no classic Mario here. There isn’t even so much as a _green fucking pipe._ I would settle for Flappy Bird at this point, Flynt. Flappy Bird.”

            I put my hands up, feeling a sudden and innate desire to protect myself. “I think I’m going to go. Nice talking with you.”

            As I was literally backing out of Enoch’s verbal assault, my foot caught on one of the duralumin storage crates on the ground. Arms wheeling, I fell onto my back with a grunt, the lid of the crate flipping open from my unintentional attack. I took a deep breath. This was going to be one of _those_ days. Getting to my feet, I thought I should probably move the crate—but I started in surprise when I saw what was inside of it.

            “Buck!”

            He was lying on his side, curled up inside of the crate. My mind was trying to comprehend how someone as tall as him could have fit into such a small space until it occurred to me that he was a recluse; it was more or less his job to do these kinds of things.

            “Oh, that’s who was in there?” Enoch said from behind me. “I was wondering. I kept hearing these sniffling noises.”

            “Wait, Buck, were you-”

            “No!” he yelled, with what sounded like half-shredded vocal chords. “I was not fucking crying! Now could everyone please leave me the fuck alone? Thanks!”

            I sighed. “You really should get out of there. It’s not good for your posture.”

            “What are you, my fucking mom?”

            “How did you even get in here, anyway?” I asked.

            He was quiet for a long moment. I thought I would have to ask again, but then he turned his head slightly and said, “My cabin’s right next to the fence. I heard it turn off so I came over here.”

            I blinked. “What for?”

            “I don’t fucking know!” he snapped. “To find good hiding places? To find the exit? To get away from you fuckers? Pick your favorite, because it just so happens to be all of them!”

            I frowned down at him. “Please come out of there. We were worried about you.”

            “We were?” Enoch asked.

            He hesitated for a moment, then yelled, “I’ll come out if you let me hit Enoch with this crate!”

            I considered it. “Sure.”

            Leaving the two of them to their highly anti-climactic crate-on-sword battle, I threw Haley a quick wave before exiting the building. The path proceeded forward, past the training room, so I figured I would follow it and see if it connected up with the other path that I’d seen earlier.

            The next building along the way was a small, stout white one with a red cross painted above the door. As I expected, I walked inside to discover that it was an infirmary. There was a service desk near the entrance, shelves and tables running along all of the walls, and cabinets filled with various supplies nestled together in one corner. Ohanzee was sitting up on one counter, talking with Gigi while she poked around in the cabinets.

            “…Great that this place is so well-stocked, though,” he was saying. “Supplies like these could really come in handy, right?”

            “Let’s hope they don’t have to,” she murmured, pulling out a syringe and studying it between three fingers. “The last thing we need around here is more violence.”

            He glanced away, nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. But it makes me happy to know that we have the supplies.”

            “Hi guys,” I said as I walked up, then looked to Gigi. “I found Buck.”

            “Oh?” She stood, pushing the drawer closed with her foot as she turned to face me. “What good news! Where was he?”

            I rubbed the back of my neck. “Well, er, that’s a bit more complicated than you might think it is. The point is, he’s safe, and taking some of his anger out on Enoch, which I think is a good thing. Probably.”

            “It certainly is!” she said, grinning toothily. “How kind of Enoch to volunteer.”

            “Um… yeah,” I said. “A-Anyway, this infirmary seems nice.”

            Ohanzee leaned forward from where he sat on the counter. “It totally is. Everything’s a little dusty, but all the first aid supplies anyone would ever need in a pinch are here. If anyone gets injured, we’re equipped to solve the problem.”

            I nodded, glancing around. “That’s good. Though, like Gigi said, I really hope we don’t have to use it.”

            The two of them nodded sagely, although Gigi’s expression was somewhat hard to read with her goggles in the way.

            Once outside again, I thought I would stick to the path, expecting any remaining buildings to follow along it as the previous ones had done. Along the way, however, I began to hear nearby shouting off to my left. In that direction I was startled to see a domed, dark metal bunker huddled amongst the overgrown grass. The metal gleamed in the high sunlight, bright and shiny and definitely new. Unlike everything else on the campsite, this bunker had to have been a recent addition. It was in far too good of condition to have been here as long as everything else.

            I ran over to see what all the yelling was about, only to find Max and Monobear standing in front of the padlocked metal doors in the midst of a heated discussion.

            “The school rules clearly state that damaging school property is forbidden,” Monobear was saying. “Now I’ll, eh, let you off with a warning, but only if knock it off right now!”

            “You’re wrong,” Max snapped, “and clearly set those rules up on purpose for just such an occasion. The rules _also_ say that we may investigate wherever and whatever we like to—and that there will be no limitations place on our actions. Isn’t that true?”

            He brought a paw to his mouth, missive. “Well, yes. But that doesn’t mean you can go around picking locks! That counts as damaging property!”

            “I’m not damaging it,” he huffed. “The lock won’t be broken. I’m just opening it. And _that_ counts as investigation.”

            “Eurgh, no! It’s against the rules, and that’s the end of the story. If you try to get in there again, then I’ll have to punish you, and that’s the end of it!” Grumbling under his breath, Monobear turned and stalked off without another word.

            “That was… interesting,” I said.

            Max glanced my way, expression reverting to a much more neutral one now that Monobear had left. “Hi. Sorry about that. It looks like we aren’t going to be allowed access to this bunker.”

            I glanced at the padlock. “Did Monobear say why?”

            He shook his head. “No. Before he showed up, I was attempting to pick the lock, and I believe that got him quite angry about the subject. Though of course, as usual, we can’t say why.” He paused, studying the building. “Whatever’s in there, I get the impression that it’s very important to him.”

            “Which means it’s important to the mastermind, too,” I added, frowning. “Nice try with the lock picking idea though.”

            “Thanks,” he said. “I thought it might be a valid loophole, but apparently not.”

            Leaving Max to his own devices, I walked back to the sidewalk and began following it once more.             Before long, I found myself approaching the back of the wooden building that I’d seen before. That meant that the two paths were connected in a circle. I opened up the back door and poked my head inside to see that it was a store of some sort; specifically, it looked like a supply or tack store, with all sorts of outdoors equipment available for purchase. In contrast to the gift shop, everything here appeared to be more or less undamaged, as the shelves were still stocked with wares and there was no sign of a struggle to be seen.

            As I walked inside, I saw Jason standing next to a small stand filled with various fishing hooks, kneeling down to study one that he held up with two fingers. “Hi,” I said.

            He glanced up briefly, shot me a small smile, and then returned to his inspection. “Hello, Flynt. What do you think of this new location we’ve been given access to?”

            I shrugged, even though he wasn’t actually looking at me. “It seems nice. Everything’s in a lot better condition than most of the other stuff we’ve seen so far.”

            He nodded absentmindedly. “Mmm… yes. Still a lot of damage though. This equipment has been sitting here, untouched, for quite some time. But it could still be put to good use, if necessary.”

            “It’s not like we have anywhere to fish,” I said.

            He blinked. “Yeah, I know that. I just meant in general.”

            “Yeah, you’re probably right,” I said. “What kind of stuff is here, anyway?”

            “Everything you could possibly need for an outdoors expedition,” he responded, getting to his feet. “Sleeping bags, water purifiers, hunting supplies like fishing tack and traps, wire… You name it, it’s most likely here.”

            “That’s pretty cool,” I said, impressed. “This campsite must have been something else before… before whatever happened.”

            He nodded, a hand pressed to his lips in thought. Looking around, I saw Neil leaning over the counter, fiddling with the cash register. Walking over, I asked, “What are you doing?”

            He paused to swivel his head around, one eyebrow raised. “Trying to break into the cash register. What did you think?”

            “I-I don’t know. I wasn’t exactly about to suspect you for vandalism, is all.”

            “Well, either way-” he pushed himself up off of the counter with a huff “-this thing’s totally busted. It must have been sitting there for months or something, because there’s no way in hell it’s gonna open up. Oh well, it’s not like I really need money in a place like this.”

            “You will when we get out,” I said.

            He frowned at me, studying my expression for a moment, then promptly broke into a wide grin. “Hey, I like your optimism. That’s a good way to approach these kinds of situations, y’know?” He leaned in, suddenly serious. “I mean, considering the shit that went down recently… Well, who knows what’s going to happen now.”

            “What do you mean?” I asked.

            He made a face. “Tensions are high. That’s all. But my point is, y’know, I’m glad there’s someone who can stay positive.”

            “Thanks,” I said.

~ ~ ~ ~

            After checking to make sure that I’d explored all locations in the new area, I met up with the other students back at the cafeteria. I was relieved to see that Buck joined us this time, though he pointedly sat as far away from everyone else as he could. Having reached the conclusion that no one was going to contribute anything that I didn’t already know, I stepped back from the group and took a seat across from Buck.

            Neither of us said anything at first. He glowered at me for a long time before grumbling, “If you’re gonna try for some friendship thing here, I’ll tell you right now that it’s not going to work.”

            I sighed. “I know you hate all of us, Buck. You don’t have to keep reminding me.”

            “That’s not-” he scoffed, looking away. “Tch, don’t act so fucking complacent about it. You could at least give me the common decency of caring.”

            I studied him in silence for a short moment. “Listen. About what happened befo-”

            His eyes swiveled on me again, the rage in his gaze strong enough to kill. “That’s none of your fucking business, Flynt, and I’d appreciate it if it stayed that way. I’m a fuck-up, alright? I ruined everything. I don’t need a goddamn reminder.”

            “I wasn’t going to-”

            “You know what the worst part of this is? Beyond the fact that I survived? It’s that all you fuckers got to sit and watch while _my_ life unraveled, like it was some kind of TV show. Some kind of joke for you to laugh at. And now you think you have the right to come in here and tell me how I’m supposed to feel and act? Fuck you, Flynt.”

            “Buck- I didn’t-” I took a breath, trying to calm down, then forced myself to meet his gaze. “I was just going to say this: I talked with Dani pretty often before all of this happened, and I’m quite sure that none of this is what she wanted for you. Yes, she felt some sort of connection to you, and I don’t have the right to claim that I understand that. But I _do_ understand that she wanted you to get along with the rest of us. That was one of her goals.”

            He stared. I forced myself to continue. “And I… I just thought, now that she was gone, maybe…” I paused. “You know what? I don’t know what I was thinking. You’re right, you should just do what you want.”

            He hesitated briefly, the rage draining out of his expression, and then opened his mouth to respond—but was cut off by another voice coming from the entrance.

            “Hello everyone!” It was Monobear, his grin mischievous. “Did you enjoy yourselves exploring? Did you find any good supplies to commit a murder with? Aren’t you all just _itching_ to get to the bloodshed?”

            “Only if you’re the victim,” Gam retorted, expression sour.

            “Upupu! I appreciate the violence!” he said, both paws pressed to his mouth. “Well, anyway, I came here for a reason. I wanted to give you guys a new motive!”

            “What?” Ohanzee said. “Already?”

            “It hasn’t even been 12 hours since the trial,” Neil said, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

            “Yeah, yeah, I know, this is a little weird,” he hummed. “But so is this motive! I prepared a really special one for you guys this time around. Aren’t you excited?”

            “No,” Calise mumbled.

            He cleared his throat, straightening up slightly. “Well, here it is: For the next 72 hours, I will not be supervising you!”

            There was a brief gap of silence as what he was saying sunk in. “Wait, what?” Haley said with wide eyes.

            “You heard me!” he said. “No cameras, no announcements, no Monobear at all for the next three days. That’s the motive. I know some of you bastards are pretty shy, so maybe you’ll be more willing to let the blood pour if my eyes aren’t on you, y’know? It’s a good idea, right?”

            “N-No, that’s a terrible idea!” Jae yelped. “How are you going to know who did it if you’re not watching?”

            “It seems very risky on your part,” Jason added.

            He waved them away. “Eh, don’t worry about that. Those are just specifics. I’ve got everything covered, okay?”

            “No, I think that is definitely something we should be worried about,” Enoch said. He looked panicked. “You can’t just stop monitoring us. Who knows what will happen?”

            He cocked his head. “What’s this? I thought all you bastards hated me. I say I’m leaving for a bit, and suddenly you want me to come back? Those are some really mixed signals, you know.

            “And anyway, I can _tell_ you what will happen: a murder! Or absolutely nothing. See, I know you guys can’t get out, and I know you can’t get into too much trouble without me around. So what exactly do I need to be worried about?”

            “But what if someone _does_ die?” Gigi asked. “What do we do?”

            Monobear padded to the window and gestured outside; through the glass I could see that a small speaker had been set up next to the firepit. “If a body is indeed discovered, you just pull that string on the speaker, okay? That’ll set off an alarm, and then I’ll show up! Pretty clever, right?”

            “No!” Buck yelled. “It’s fucking stupid! You can’t do this.”

            “Oh, but I can,” he said, and then snickered. “And I have! In other words, I’m going to take my leave now. You bastards have fun with your mutual killing, okay?”

            And with that, he was gone. There was no bravado, no violent laughter. He simply walked out of the cafeteria and disappeared around the corner.

            There was a pause. “What do we do?” Enoch said.

            “He’s lying,” Max, who had been quiet this whole time, said immediately. “There’s no possible way he can go through with a murder, investigation, and trial if he doesn’t know who the culprit is ahead of time. This is just a ploy to see if we’ve discovered any of his secrets.”

            “But we haven’t!” Gam said, tone one of dismay. “We haven’t discovered _anything._ We’re completely in the dark. If he’s so confident, then he would already know that, wouldn’t he?”

            Max shook his head, expression condemning. “It’s a trap and a lie. It must be.”

            “But…” Jae hesitated. “Let’s just say he _is_ telling the truth. What should we do?”

            “What _can_ we do?” Calise asked. “Just because he’s gone doesn’t mean our situation has changed, right?”

            “We might be able to escape-”

            “How do we know if he’s telling the truth-?”

            “What if we find something-?”

            “What about…”

            Everyone started talking at once. I looked up to the security camera in the corner of the cafeteria, mind numb with shock. There was no way to tell whether the machine was on or not; no way to tell if the mastermind was watching in secret, waiting to see what we would do next. There was no way to know if they were telling the truth or trying to pull us down another long road of mutual killing.

            The one thing I was certain of was that we couldn’t let anyone die. That had to be top priority, right? If someone died, the nightmare would begin all over again. But with everyone yelling and tensions high, I wasn’t sure what to think anymore. Which of us was right? Who do we follow?

            I stared into the black eye of the camera, knowing with total certainty that everything was about to spiral out of control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I was writing this one, Enoch messaged me to remind me that his character had yet to show any signs of suffering from withdrawal because of his lack of video games. He'd mentioned this before, but I'd never really gotten a chance to drop it in previously because of everything going on. I appreciated the reminder, because I probably would have forgotten otherwise.  
> ...And it also made for one of my favorite scenes in Re:kindle so far. That's one of the things I love about writing; it's those little scenes that you don't plan which sneak up on you and surprise you.


	14. 3.2 "Death is Subjective"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First half of the free time events, plus some plot.

(Ab)normal Days Part 2

            After Monobear disappeared, the conversation dissolved into an argument, which soon became nothing more than incoherent yelling. Everyone had an idea on how to proceed forward, but no one could agree on any of them. We went to bed—without a Night Time announcement telling us to—frazzled and upset with one another. As I was trying to fall asleep, I reflected briefly that this motive had succeeded in one thing above all else: it had gotten us afraid of each other again.

            The next morning, I decided that I would try my best to resolve that. Slipping out of bed, I got dressed and began to wander the campsite, looking for someone to hang out with. The first person to cross my path, of all people, was Buck. It took me a while to find him—he was lurking behind his cabin, crouched in the grass, picking at long stems. I approached him in silence, waiting to see what he would do.

            He glanced up, studied me for a moment, and then glanced down again. “What do you want?”

            “Someone to hang out with,” I said.

            “So you pick me?” His head swiveled around again to shoot me a glare. “You’re pretty stupid, you know that? But… Fine, whatever. We can hang out.”

            I spent some time with Buck. We didn’t go very far, or do anything in particular, but I still felt like hanging out with him was a good decision on my part. It seemed like we’d gotten a little closer. Sitting on a small rock, while I rested against the back wall of his cabin, Buck stared at me with what was almost a bored expression.

            Neither of us were speaking, but I got the impression that he was somehow annoyed with me. “What’s the matter?” I asked.

            He took his time responding. “You’re usually more talkative,” he said. “You know, more annoying. What shut you up all of a sudden?”

            “N-Nothing,” I said. “I just didn’t really have anything to talk about. Besides, well, you know. And I don’t think either of us actually want to talk about _that_.”

            “Yeah, you’re right,” he muttered. “Why the fuck would anyone want to talk about that?”

            I could think of a few good reasons, but I wasn’t about to voice them aloud. He didn’t need this. I considered briefly: was I pitying him? No, of course I wasn’t. This was just being considerate. Pity was a different kind of game. “I’m not sure what to say, is all,” I told him.

            He glanced around, looking at everything but me. There was an uncomfortable silence. “I didn’t want any of that shit to happen, you know.”

            I hesitated, then forced myself to say, “But you _did_ want to kill someone.”

            “That’s not what I meant,” he snapped. “I mean with Dani. The argument and stuff. Yeah I had some stupid bullshit idea to kill someone, but it wasn’t supposed to result in some big public blowup with my best friend.”

            I didn’t know what to say, so I was quiet for a moment. Then I murmured, “I just can’t believe you guys were best friends. I mean, don’t take that the wrong way. It’s just… everything happened so fast.”

            He eyed me critically. “I haven’t had a lot of those, you know. Friends. Let alone ‘best’ ones.”

            I attempted a light grin. “Oh come on, you’re exaggerating. Everyone’s had friends.”

            “No, really,” he said, as though it were a challenge. After a pause, he added, “Do you want to hear a story?”

            “Okay,” I said.

            He heaved a breath, looking away. “When I was like, 5 or 6, I created my own imaginary friend, right? I was at this sort of kid’s camp. A kinda cabin place, I guess. I never hung out with anyone else. I could never figure out how other people worked. And none of those fuckers ever cared about me, anyway. Her name was Nikita. The imaginary friend, I mean.

            “She was older than me, but only by a few years. Dark hair, blue eyes, scar on her cheek. Real thick accent. She had… It was sorta like PTSD, I guess. She hardly ever talked about herself. But she was smart, and she helped me be smart too. She knew about nature. She taught me how to hide. And I got damn good at it, as you know. Not even my parents could find me—though they didn’t try that hard anyway.

            “I suppose I sorta fell in love with Nikita. Which is fucked up, I know. My first crush lived in my head. But I don’t regret that. She was the only person who cared about me, so how could I not care about her? She always called me her little shadow. Heh, that’s messed up, right? The fake girl wasn’t the shadow, she was the leader. It was like _I_ was the one who didn’t exist.”

            He was quiet for a moment. “But life is unfair, right? People in my family started dying. Heart attacks, old age. It scared me, I guess. I was up at the cabin one weekend, and… I had this nightmare. It didn’t seem like a nightmare. It seemed real. Still does. In the nightmare, I couldn’t find Nikita. I was wandering around looking for her. I went up to where she lived in the woods and she… She was standing on the roof. She looked at me, and then she… she jumped. And she didn’t come back after that. I never saw her again.”

            I didn’t know what to say. He glanced at me, and then continued. “It fucked me up. Watching her off herself like that. So I guess you can understand why I lost it when Dani… gave up on me. When she just accepted defeat like that. That’s the same thing as jumping, I think.”

            I stared at him, shocked. “I-I’m sorry.”

            He glowered at me. “What’s the point of apologizing? It’s a fucking story, Flynt. It has nothing to do with you. I don’t need an apology.”

            “I just… I’m just sorry that happened to you.”

            He eyed me sideways, looking as though he were about to say something, but then seemed to change his mind. He muttered, “Don’t be. I brought it on myself, just like everything else I do.”

            “Wait…”

            “I’ll talk to you later, Flynt.”

            He was on his feet and gone before I could even get another word in. I watched him go in a shocked, estranged silence. I hadn’t realized half of what Buck had gone through in his life. Watching his retreating form, I wanted to help him. No one deserved to suffer through such experiences on their own.

~ ~ ~ ~

            Though my conversation with Buck had taken up much of the day, I was still determined to hang out with someone else before nightfall. Though I had yet to talk with the other students about it, I figured it was important that all of us stayed together. After a short period of wandering, I found Gigi upstairs in the lodge, poking her head into one of the empty hotel rooms.

            “Hello, Flynt!” she said. “I find these rooms quite interesting, you know. There could be secrets hidden in them. Shall we investigate together?”

            I spent some time with Gigi combing through the upstairs rooms in the lodge, looking for anything of interest. Most of the rooms were uniformly similar, and neither of us could pin down something of importance, but it wasn’t a total loss. I felt like we’d gotten a little closer. We both took a seat at the top of the staircase.

            I studied her in silence. The thick rims of her goggles dominated most of her face, and made reading her expressions a constant chore. She seemed contemplative at the moment, her chin rested on one hand as she studied the bottom of the staircase beneath us. “So what’s with the goggles?” I asked.

            She shot a sideways glance in my direction. “Ah, well that’s a secret, isn’t it? I can’t give away my secrets just because you ask. That would be too easy.”

            “I just wanted to know,” I said, trying not to sound dejected. “I mean, it doesn’t seem to have anything to do with your title.”

            “The cat thing?”

            “The cat thing.”

            “Yes, the cat thing,” she sighed, drumming her fingers on her knees. “The cat thing is a very good thing.”

            “Tell me about it, then,” I said.

            “Cats are just like people, you know,” she said. Her lips were set in a thin line, as though she were taking this very seriously.

            “How so?” I asked.

            She tapped the side of her head with one finger. “They have an emotional region in the brain that’s just like a human’s. In other words, a cat has needs and wants and mood swings just like a human does, and that has to be taken into consideration when dealing with them. They can be overloaded and grow agitated, or lonely and seek out attention.”

            “Just like a human,” I said, nodding. “That’s interesting, I never knew that.”

            “They domesticated alongside the human race,” she continued. “Meaning that they evolved, for the most part, as companions rather than work animals. Interesting fact: they only meow to humans, not to each other. They taught themselves to ‘speak’ for our benefit because we enjoy it.”

            “So does that mean you think that cats are better than dogs?” I asked.

            “Hmm…” she pressed a finger to her lips. “Not necessarily. I think different animals work better with different people. See, because cats are so similar to humans, they work well for someone who wants a human relationship without all of the human baggage. You know, someone like Buck!”

            I grinned. “So do you think he should get a cat?”

            She didn’t return my smile, so I got the impression that this was still a serious subject. “Yes, I think he should. If we ever get out of here, that is. I think a cat would help him immensely.”

            “Okay,” I said, considering it. “Alright, what about me?”

            She frowned at me, gesturing cryptically. “Well, I think everyone should own a cat at least once in their lives. I wouldn’t want to say that they’re superior to dogs, but they’re definitely different than dogs. A dog treats a relationship much differently than a cat does. And I think a person should go to every length to understand that fact before they decide which one they like best.”

            After a moment, I nodded. “Yeah, you’re probably right. And I mean, it’s such a stereotypical argument, anyway. Both of them are good animals, right?”

            “Yes indeed,” Gigi hummed, now choosing to smile. She got to her feet, retrieving her umbrella from where it lay by the steps, and stretched slightly. “Well, I must say it was a pleasure speaking with you Flynt. I’m off now.”

            “I’ll see you around,” I said. Although our conversation was now over, I wasn’t completely satisfied. I still wanted to know about her goggles, her strange personality, and the cryptic attitude she possessed in regards to just about everything. There was definitely more to Gigi than what met the eye. Or… Didn’t meet the eye, in her case.

~ ~ ~ ~

            As the sun began to set, I considered heading to my cabin for the night. Without Monobear’s announcement, there was no way to tell if it was past ten or not, but I figured I still had a pretty good chunk of time left. Deciding I wanted to know for sure, I went to the cafeteria to look for a student with a watch. I was surprised to find that everyone was already there, however, and all were focused on one very heated discussion.

            Max was sitting alone at one of the cafeteria tables, Gigi hovering over him with her arms crossed. He refused to meet her gaze. “It is not a good idea,” he was saying. “I will not do it.”

            She huffed. “It’s been nearly a full 24 hours, and that Monobear is a fickle character, as we all well know. He hasn’t said a single word or made a single appearance, and that’s proof enough to me that he was serious.”

            “You really think he isn’t watching us right now?” he scoffed. “You’re guaranteed death with a mindset like that. I’m not yet ready to risk my life over this.”

            “And when _will_ you be, hmm? When he actually _is_ here and there’s an actual, real threat towards your life? This is a prime opportunity, and yet here you are, set on squandering it.”

            “What’s going on?” I asked, walking over. The rest of the students were crowded around the two of them, exchanging glances. Most of them looked pretty annoyed by one thing or another. The tension in the room was near unbearable.

            Max glanced my way. “Gigi—and the rest of the student body, apparently—wish for me to open up the bunker in the new area. But as I quite firmly believe that this ’72-hour absence’ is nothing more than a lie and a farce, I am not going to do it.”

            Gigi’s nose wrinkled. “What’s the point of Monobear giving us a motive if he’s not going to stick to it? We’ve already seen how serious he is about this mutual killing, so I don’t think he would run the risk of making us doubt his motives.”

            “It doesn’t matter,” he snapped. “It isn’t worth the risk. And if all of you care so much, then why don’t one of you do it?”

            She looked away. “I tried. Clearly I’m not cut out for the art of lock picking. But you seem to act like you are.”

            Figuring that this was a good time to mention what I’d been thinking since last night, I said, “Wait a minute, you guys. I want to see what’s in the bunker too, but I don’t think that’s the real problem here. I mean, the real purpose of this motive was to make us afraid of each other again, right? And it worked, didn’t it? We’ve been doing nothing but argue since Monobear left. That’s not good.”

            Buck made a face. “It’s worth it if that fucker isn’t here. I hope he never comes back again.”

            “And if we could all work together to open the bunker…” Gigi added, trailing off.

            “Wait a minute,” Gam said. “Flynt has a point. Monobear’s whole goal is to get us to kill one another, and that’s pretty easy to do if we all hate each other at the same time. No matter what we do, it should definitely involve a distinct lack of fighting.”

             “Yeah, that’s a nice plan,” Enoch growled. “But I’d be a lot more willing to do it if Max actually tried to help us out here.”

            “You’re not going to make it happen with ultimatums, that’s for sure,” he grumbled.

            “What a little bitch,” Buck said.

            “Insulting him isn’t going to help,” Jae snapped.

            “Well it’s certainly not hurting the situation!”

            “Maybe everyone should calm down?” Calise said.

            The conversation fell apart from there. I watched in dismay as everyone began yelling, talking over one another and spitting useless insults into the air. I called for everyone to be quiet more than once, but either no one heard me or no one cared. I couldn’t take this anymore. No one would listen. Everyone was dead set on being right. Furious, I ran from the cafeteria. I was frustrated and upset and I couldn’t think straight—so I went to the place where I’d gone the last time I felt like that.

            The bathrooms in the back of the gift shop hadn’t changed much since my last visit. I thought of Ryan—I thought of myself, curled up next to the toilet—and felt a sad, bitter nostalgia. The air in here was sharp and sterile from disuse, and I was lulled into a quiet depression. None of us would ever get out of here like this. We would all die at this rate.

            I leaned my forehead against the back wall of the back bathroom stall, trying to breathe. Regardless of whether Monobear was lying or not, he couldn’t see me in here. I could take stock in that fact. I pressed my hands against the cold stone, shivering from exhaustion and stress. I needed out. I needed _out._ I needed out I needed out I needed out I needed out I needed out I needed out I needed out I needed out I needed out-

            One small square of stone slid inward from the pressure of my hand—and the rest of the wall followed.

            I gasped in shock, falling as the solid stone suddenly wasn’t there anymore. My hand grasped at random and found purchase on the new edge of the wall, the other one scrabbling haplessly in dark, empty space. Forced by my own inertia, the rest of my body flew forward past the wall—and I looked down into a dark, empty pit, the bottom of which gleamed like the center of a burning red eye.

            For a terrifying moment, it seemed as though my grip wouldn’t be enough, and I would tumble to my death. But I managed to keep my balance. I gasped for breath, staring into the pit that had almost been my downfall, and then looked up and tried to assess the situation.

            It appeared as though one of the stones that I’d placed my hand against had been a switch of some sort. When I pressed it… It looked like it activated a kind of hidden door. And beyond the door was a deep hole down into blackness.

            I stared, trying to figure out what I should do. At the bottom of the hole, I could see a faint glow of red light, indicating that there was definitely something down there—as to what, I couldn’t say. I glanced up. Hooked to the far wall of the pit was a long rope ladder, extending into darkness. There was no way to tell if it reached the bottom. There was no way to tell if there _was_ a bottom. But if the light was any indication…

            I considered. I could try going to back to the other students and telling them, but there was no way of knowing how long this secret door would stay here, or if I would be able to find the right stone again. And anyway, everyone was at the cafeteria fighting. What good would they be? Still, if I got trapped in here that would be the end. No one would know what had happened to me. Maybe even the mastermind would never know.

            Unless, of course, this secret entrance actually led to the mastermind.

            At this point, I figured I had nothing to lose. What was the point of any of this if I didn’t at least try? It wasn’t like we were going to get out of here, anyway. It didn’t seem like it, at least. I leaned forward slowly, letting my hands crawl across the inside of the passage until they reached the rope ladder. I gripped one rung tightly, braced myself, and then swung my legs forward. They successfully found purchase on a lower rung, and thus I found myself hanging from the ladder. I took a deep breath and began my descent.

            It was a long way down. My hands grew numb and ached from gripping the same circular rungs over and over again, but I forced myself to keep going. I was almost startled when my feet finally hit the ground. I pried my hands from the ladder and turned, only to bump my head on the roof in the process. I winced, crouching. It was pitch black in here. The light was coming from up ahead, and was definitely brighter than it had been before.

            I unclipped my lantern from where it hung at my side, fiddling with it before I could turn it on. The pale blue light exposed angular, featureless stone walls extending into the distance. I began walking, keeping low to the ground to avoid hitting my head.

            I walked for some time before the path widened. I was able to stand up straight again, but my surroundings still had yet to change much. The light was closer, though. I proceeded forward, running my hand along the uneven stone, the corridor twisting slightly to the left. Up ahead, I could see a thick wall of pale reddish rock, different form the tunnel I’d been following this whole time. I approached it to see that it was intended to cover up the passageway behind it—but it was crumbling away in several locations and crunched into pieces when I gripped it.

            I hesitated for a moment, and then set to dismantling the wall enough to get past it. After a few minutes, I’d gouged a wide hole into the middle of the wall, big enough for me to crawl through. Putting my lantern between my teeth, I braced myself against the stone and vaulted over.

            I found myself on a clean stone ground behind an aging bookcase. This room was definitely the source of the light that I’d been following this whole time; the flicker of torchlight bounced off of the reddish stone walls. I crawled out from behind the bookcase, eyes wide. I was in a small room, carved out of the rock around me. The hole that I’d entered from was almost entirely hidden by the bookcase. I got to my feet, trying not to think about how far down I must be.

            Directly in front of me was a small wooden desk, on top of which was a computer and a collection of papers and folders. Besides this, there was a small black couch in the room, and then a closed wooden door in the farthest corner, along the same wall as the computer. Pinned to the monitor was a sticky note that read, “Press F8 to reveal your f8.” I pressed F8, but nothing happened. It wasn’t like the computer was turned on, anyway. There wasn’t even an outlet in the room.

            I shifted through some of the papers on the desk. Most of them were old and peeling, and none of it seemed to match, as though they had all come from different places. There was even a Monopoly “Get out of jail free” card tossed carelessly next to the computer. I picked up one manila folder at random and thumbed through it—but stopped when I saw something familiar.

            I picked one handwritten page out of the folder. Someone had written at the top of it, in a messy scrawl, “DANI-,” followed by a description of her execution. I gazed at it, eyes wide. Several notes had been written in the margins, in someone else’s handwriting. Most of them were comments on the execution. In one corner was a crude caricature of Dani, surrounded by slender metal arms and clamps. Next to it the person had written, “I love it!”

            I tossed it to the side, shocked, only to have my eyes drawn up by the next piece of paper underneath it. In the first person’s handwriting was the name “FLYNT-,” followed by a description of an execution:

            _He is placed in a large, dark room with blood splattered everywhere. He has a gun, and is searching for the exit. Include the sound of chains dragging along the ground, as well as the heavy footsteps of a “monster” to indicate that he is being followed. He will find a keypad next to a locked door, with the passcode written above it in blood. When he enters the code, the door opens and he runs inside into a long and well-lit hallway. When he begins to run down the hallway, he can hear the “monster” getting closer. When he reaches the end, there is an open door, slowly closing. The monster finally appears, revealing itself to be an oversized, mutated Monobear. He will bring up his gun to shoot it, only to realize that it contains no ammunition (Who has any ammunition against despair, anyway?). He will see a reset button next to the door, and slam it in a panic, but receive no response. The button is only a prop. The Monobear will then pick him up by his throat and say in a robotic voice, "Save File Corrupted" (that being the name of the execution). He will then place his head under the nearly-closed door to crush it._

            I swallowed, my head spinning. The second writer had left notes in the margins of this paper as well. In the top was a drawing of a slathering, werewolf-esque Monobear with my half-mangled corpse in its jaws. “Nom nom nom” was written around it. At the bottom of the page they had left another note: “Could be better. Not lucky enough, right? Needs more luck metaphors.”

            Disturbed and confused, I threw the manila folder back onto the desk, not wanting to look at any more. It was a folder full of our executions. It made me sick. But, more importantly…

            There were two people writing on these papers. Did that mean that there were two masterminds? I thought of the traitor and felt dizzy. This left me even more confused than I’d been before.

            Disparaged, but nevertheless determined, I abandoned the desk and tried the door. It opened without resistance, though it creaked slightly. I found myself in a wide, uniform stone hallway that extended in both directions. Again, I tried to avoid thinking about how far down I must be. There were many torches lining the walls, but most of them were extinguished, so I kept my lantern turned on. There was no sign of anyone else around.

            When I proceeded further down the corridor, I began to come across rows upon rows of torches that were lit up, so I turned off my lantern. There were several doors and rooms lining the corridors, as well as side paths that branched off from the one upon which I walked. Most of the doors were locked, broken, or had entryways filled with rubble, but some of them opened without protest. Many of the rooms were similar to the first one, however, and didn’t contain anything of much importance. I found a few rooms with what appeared to be dried bloodstains painting the walls. I tried desperately to not think about how they got there.

            At length it occurred to me that I was lost.

            I thought that I had been keeping a record of my own path, but it quickly became apparent that I’d lost track along the way. No matter how many routes or corridors I tried to follow back, I couldn’t find the right way. I couldn’t even tell if I was heading back anymore—for all I knew, I could have been proceeding further into the catacombs, rather than out of them.

            Exhaustion began to make my limbs ache. I realized that I must have been down here for some time now; it was probably already well past 10 PM. I was afraid, but determined to not accept defeat. I needed to sleep, however. There was no way I would be able to find the exit when I was this tired.

            I could recall seeing beds and sleeping mats in some of the rooms, so I started trying the doors to find one to spend the night in. I opened one of the doors—and then stopped dead in my tracks.

            The room was constructed similarly to the first one that I’d entered the catacombs from, but with the addition of a bed, and one large glass window that looked into the room next to it. Torches lit the room, banishing long shadows into only the corners. But none of this was what caught my attention.

            What caught my attention was the person sitting at the computer.

            Olivia.

            I wasn’t breathing correctly. It came out in ragged, irregular gasps, my chest heaving as though I’d just been running for miles. She turned to look at me with an almost dazed expression, as though I didn’t matter all that much. There were dark, heavy lines of sleep under her eyes, and her gaze was out of focus. It seemed as though she were trying to act surprised; but the emotion just didn’t reach the surface properly.

            I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what to think. Was this even real? How could this possibly be real?

            I did what any rational person would do and collapsed on the floor.

~ ~ ~ ~

            When I came to, the smell of dust was heavy in my nose. I heaved a deep breath, and then promptly coughed, struggling to sit up. I was lying on a bed in the room where I’d collapsed. The computer was turned off now, but Olivia was sitting in the same chair as before. She stared at me, expressionless.

            When my coughing fit had subsided, I thought I should try to speak, but I didn’t know what to say. I stared at her, dazed.

            “Why are you here?” she finally asked. She was just the same as she had been before, if a little more sleep deprived. “I’ve been trying to find an exit since I got here. How did you do it?”

            I was trying to put together an answer, but she continued: “Or have you known about this place the whole time? Perhaps you’re the mastermind? Tell me.”

            “I…” I blinked. “How are you alive?”

            She seemed taken aback by my question, but I couldn’t figure out why. “Th-This isn’t the time for that. You shouldn’t be here. How did you get in here?”

            It seemed as though the only way we could proceed forward was if I answered her questions. I had no idea what was going on, but I forced myself to respond regardless. “There was a secret passage in the men’s bathroom in the back of the gift shop. It led down to a room in these… catacombs. I got lost and ended up in here.”

            She studied my expression, as though trying to figure out if I was lying. At length, her shoulders lowered. “Did Monobear see you enter? Does he know you’re down here?”

            I hesitated, looking down. “H-He gave us a new motive. He’s not monitoring us for the next few days.”

            I glanced up to see how she would respond. Her eyes widened and she stood, agitated. “Unbelievable! I told you, didn’t I? He’s gotten reckless. He’s barely bothering to follow his own rules anymore.” She huffed. “Well, it spares us at least. You’re lucky that he didn’t see you come down here.”

            “Wh… Does the mastermind know you’re here?”

            She glanced at me. “I believe the mastermind is the one who put me here. They predicted that I would survive being stabbed, but for some reason did not want to rest of you to know that. So they treated it like a normal killing, and executed Ryan. Meanwhile, I was put in these tunnels. Have you seen anyone else down here, by the way? Ryan? Pam? Dani?”

            “What? Wh-Why would I…? Olivia, they’re dead,” I took a breath. “Like you’re supposed to be.”

            Her expression fell. “I thought, perhaps… They were in similar situations as myself. But I suppose not. Nevermind.”

            My head was spinning. “But how did you live? And how do you know that Dani and Pam died?”

            She hesitated before responding. “Don’t worry about that. It’s nothing to be concerned about.”

            I wanted to yell at her, I was so exasperated and confused, but I forced myself to pause and breathe for a moment. There was a window looking into an adjacent room across from hers, but the inside of it was dark. What interested me was the window itself, however: it was covered in red scribbles and notations, all of which surrounded a long, angular line, like a crudely-drawn mountain. “What is that?” I asked.

            Olivia glanced at it, then back to me. “A plot diagram. A map, if you will. A story map.”

            I looked to her desk. There was a red Expo marker on it—more than likely the source of the ink spattering the window. I thought of her title and was somehow lulled by the familiarity. “What story?” I asked.

            “Don’t worry about it,” she said. She seemed… not distracted, but quite the opposite: focused. In her mind, there were important things to be addressed—but they were none of the things that _I_ thought were important. She walked to the bed and picked up her trench coat lying next to me, putting it on.

            “A-Are we going somewhere?” I asked.

            She was walking towards the door. When I spoke, she turned to face me, one eyebrow raised critically. “Don’t you understand, Flynt? You’ve found me again. Now the _real_ game begins.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: Buck's story is actually a true one.
> 
> The name Nikita is an actual, real name, a fact which neither Buck nor myself knew about until I was writing his free time event. It means "the people's victory" in Russian, or "home/abode" in its original Greek root. Needless to say we were both astounded and disturbed by how fitting it was. One of the most beautiful things about writing is the fact that it is, more often than not, responsible for the most outlandish discoveries.
> 
> "Press F8 to reveal your f8" is the name of a very short General Mumble song. It's nothing special, but something about the title stuck with me, I suppose. You can listen to it [here.](http://generalmumble.bandcamp.com/track/press-f8-to-reveal-your-f8)
> 
> The get out of jail free card is a reference to a joke that Dani made when it was revealed that she was the Chapter 2 culprit. She said she was going to use her get out of jail free card to escape her execution, but then I said I'd stolen it from her and hidden it somewhere where she would never find it. The place I hid it was right here, in canon. The extended joke is that I used it to come back to life.
> 
> Flynt's execution, like Dani's, was originally written by Gam--though I edited his much less than I had edited Dani's.


	15. 3.3 "Verisimilitude"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second half of the free time events and, to no one's surprise, additional plot.

(Ab)normal Days Part 3

            I described the location of the secret entrance to Olivia. To my surprise, she seemed to have a highly-developed understanding of the catacombs’ layout; within a few minutes, she had led me back to the room that I’d entered from. As we approached, she set fire to all of the unlit torches in the nearby area with one that she’d brought with her.

            “I light torches in the places that I’ve been,” she explained. “To keep track. I suppose I might have found this entrance earlier, had I actually been in this area, but even then it would be unlikely. They’re well-hidden.”

            “You mean there’s multiple entrances?” I said.

            She nodded. “I don’t have proof, but I’m pretty sure that’s the case. The catacombs are smaller than they seem, but they’re still pretty large. _And_ labyrinthine. It’s easy to get lost. Had I built these tunnels, my first concern would have been setting up multiple entrances for ease of access.”

            “Still…” I said, frowning. “From what I saw, there were a _lot_ of torches lit. It seems weird to me that you wouldn’t have found an exit yet.”

            She made a face. “Even so, I’m convinced that there’s more than one. There’s an entire section of the catacombs that’s blocked off from this one, after all.”

            “Really?” I asked. “Where?”

            “I’ll show you later. When you come back.”

            I blinked. “Er- Come back? You mean you aren’t coming with me?”

            She glanced away. “I think it would be best to wait. I’ll need you to bring me food, if that’s alright.”

            My eyes widened. “You haven’t had any this whole time?”

            “No water, either,” she said, grimacing. “Now come on, show me where this entrance is.”

            I walked over to the bookcase, pushing it to the side slightly to give her a good look at the damage done to the wall behind it. “I think someone filled this in,” I said. “But it was pretty easy to break.”

            Olivia nodded, studying it. “And what’s beyond here?”

            “A really dark tunnel, and then a rope ladder going up. At the top is a secret door that leads into the men’s bathroom in the gift shop. I’m… not actually sure how to open the door from the inside.”

            “There must be a way,” she said, unperturbed. “I’ll leave you here. You know how to get back to my room, right?”

            I nodded, and we parted ways. I had no troubles on my way back through the tunnel and up the ladder. At the top, I pulled myself onto a small ledge in between the secret door and the pit beneath me. During my absence the door had closed, so I assumed that there must be some sort of timer on it. After a few seconds of running my hands along the walls, I found a small depression next to the door and pressed it—it slid open and I walked into the bathroom, relieved.

            I decided to wait until the door closed, wondering how long it was going to take. Counting under my breath, I measured it at about 30 seconds before it slid closed with the soft sound of grinding stone. Satisfied, I turned and made my way out of the gift shop.

            The night air was cool, but it wasn’t much warmer underground, so I didn’t mind it. Before doing anything else, I walked over to the cafeteria and poked my head inside; there was no one around. Everyone must have gone to bed already. Unsure of what else to do, I retired to my cabin. I didn’t get much sleep, though. I couldn’t stop thinking about everything I’d discovered, and about what might happen as a result.

~ ~ ~ ~

            The next morning, everyone gathered in the cafeteria, more out of obligation than anything else. I wasn’t sure what had happened between them last night, and no one bothered to ask me where I had gone. Nobody seemed too interested in talking at all. Despite this, as I sat down next to Haley with a piece of toast, my attention was captured by a strained conversation going on in the corner of the room.

            Gigi and Calise were sitting next to an agitated-looking Jae, who was gesturing in annoyance as s/he ate. “I mean, Flynt was saying some important shit last night. At least I think so. We can’t let this stupid motive get us at each other’s throats.”

            “And your solution?” Gigi asked, seemingly civil in comparison to her standoff with Max last night.

            “I think we should have a masquerade,” she said. “All the supplies we need are in the hunting lodge. There’s even a ballroom in there. We would need to clean up some of the dirt, and bring in food from here, but besides that everything is ready for us.”

            Gigi glanced at Calise, who wasn’t saying anything. “I understand where you’re coming from, but I’m not entirely certain it’s a good idea. The last time we had a group activity, it ended in Olivia’s death.”

            I stiffened at her name, but refrained from saying anything. Still, it brought the question to mind—should I tell the others, or keep Olivia’s existence a secret? If Monobear really wasn’t monitoring us right now, then I had no real reason to keep her from the others. But that didn’t stop it from being a risk. I chewed on my toast, frowning.

            “This party won’t be like the sleepover,” Jae was saying. “Monobear isn’t watching us. Nothing will go wrong.”

            “It _is_ a pretty good idea,” Calise said softly, eyes lowered. “I would like to do it.”

            Gigi sighed, fitful. “I don’t think we have enough incentive to do something like that. Not until we get the bunker opened, at least!” She raised her voice on the last sentence, turning slightly to glance at Max. He was sitting at the farthest table, glowering at everyone from behind the safety of a bowl of oatmeal.

            “Damnit,” Jae stamped a foot, irritated, then glanced at me. “What do you think, Flynt?”

            “Olivia is still alive,” I blurted out.

            Well, that could have gone better.

            The entire cafeteria turned to look at me. It wasn’t like any other conversations had been going on, so everyone had heard my response. By their expressions, it was quite clear that most of them thought I had lost it. I sat there, mouth open, unsure of how to follow up my claim. How was I _supposed_ to follow up a claim like that? There was only one person in the room who could manage a response.

            “ _What?_ ”

            I turned. Max had stood up from his chair and was staring at me, expression twisted into one of estranged disbelief. “ _What_ did you say?” he asked.

            “I… There’s a secret passage in the gift shop. It leads underground. A-And Olivia is… She’s still alive…”

            Something about his demeanor left me shell-shocked. His eyes narrowed. He walked, very slowly, from where he’d been sitting over to the corner of the table where Jae was. As he rounded it I saw that his hand was clenched into a fist, fingers digging in so much that the skin around them had gone a lifeless white. “This isn’t the right fucking time for jokes, Flynt,” he said. “I suggest you knock it off before this gets out of hand.”

            “I- But I’m not joking,” I managed. “I swear it’s true.”

            His teeth were gritted together—I thought they might break. “I hate a fucking liar. Shut the fuck up before I make you.”

            “L-Listen,” I said, rising to my feet and holding my hands up. “I can show you, okay? If we just go to the gift shop-”

            “You think you can fucking… make jokes…? A-About _her_ -!” He lunged at me. Before I could even figure out what was going on, I found myself on the floor, Max holding my head up by the collar of my shirt. “Don’t you _ever_ joke about her!” My vision flipped sideways as he punched me.

            I gasped in shock and pain as my eyes centered on his. They were black pools of limitless rage. Without meaning to, I had tapped into an unending flow of fury and emotion, so buried as to almost be forgotten, now brought to the surface by my carelessness. I didn’t understand why this meant so much to him, but I had crossed a line—and now I was paying the price. He struck me again. My head fell back in a daze.

            “You fucker, you think you’re so funny!” He hit me again, again. I couldn’t tell up from down or left from right anymore. Working off of instinct, my hand lifted itself up and caught his fist before it could strike me once more. I was shaking all over, and his fist trembled as well when we made contact.

            “P-Please, Max… I’m being serious… Please…”

            He hesitated. He heaved suddenly, as though I was the one attacking him, and his eyes went wide. He yanked his hand away from mine and stood, staggering backwards. A whimper escaped him. He looked lost, as if he were only just seeing the room for the first time—seeing it, _really_ seeing it, instead of just looking. He shot me one more glance and then turned and fled the cafeteria.

            A hand appeared in front of my face. I took it, dizzy, and was pulled to my feet to see that Haley was the one supporting me. “Are you alright?” she asked.

            “Yeah, I- I’m fine…” I brought two fingers to my nose. When I held them up, they were red. “I’m bleeding…?”

            “I’ll take you to the infirmary,” she offered, and then set her plan into motion before I could protest. So dazed was I that I hardly noticed much of anything on the walk over. Before long I was sitting up on one of the infirmary’s tables, wincing on occasion as Haley dabbed at my nose with a cloth. At some point Ohanzee must have joined us, because he was leaning on a nearby counter, frowning.

            “So what’s with all this Olivia business?” he asked.

            “Uh…”

            “I don’t really think he’s ready to talk yet,” Haley said.

            I shook my head slightly, causing her to lower her hand. “No, I’m fine. Really, I’m fine. She’s down there, in the catacombs.”

            “Catacombs?” he tilted his head to the side.

            “The secret passage in the gift shop,” I said. Haley resumed her work, applying some sort of ointment to the area around my nose. “It leads down into these catacombs beneath the campsite.” I paused. “This must all sound insane.”

            “A little,” Ohanzee said. “But you seem serious. I mean, you got beat up over it, and you’re still stickin’ to your guns. So either it’s true, or you’ve lost it and started imagining things.”

             “I… appreciate the support?” I said.

            He shot me a thumbs up as Haley pulled away. “All done.”

            “Thanks,” I said to her, tapping gingerly at the side of my nose. “I’m really sorry about all of this.”

            “Why are you apologizing?” she asked, a frown on her face. “You weren’t the one who was beating someone else up.”

            I grimaced, uncertain of how to respond. “I know. It’s just… Ugh, everything has gotten so out of control.”

            “It’s alright,” she said, attempting a smile. “We’ll be sure to go check out the gift shop and sort this whole mess out. And if it turns out that nothing is there… Well, we can worry about that when the time comes.”

            “Th-Thanks,” I said, touched. At least they weren’t calling me crazy _yet._

~ ~ ~ ~

            Later that morning, I found myself with a lot of free time on my hands. Unable to do anything very productive until the others had assessed the situation, I figured I might as well find someone else with some spare time to hang out with. All things considered, the most likely target was Olivia herself. I went to the cafeteria, grabbed a handful of food and a few water bottles, put them all in a small bag that I slung over my shoulder, and then made my way down into the catacombs.

            In contrast to the previous night, it only took me a few minutes to find her room. I knocked on the peeling wood and waited for her answer. She opened the door looking frazzled, but nevertheless the same as always. “You brought food,” she said, looking relieved. “Come on in.”

            After we had everything situated, she said, “Come with me, I can show you some more of the catacombs.”

            I explored further into the catacombs with Olivia. She showed me a large, imposing metal door down one hallway that was locked shut, claiming that this was the sectioned-off part of the catacombs that she had mentioned earlier. Beyond being very revealing, I also enjoyed the time I spent with Olivia. I felt like we got a little closer. Afterwards, we returned to her room. I studied the plot diagram on her window while she took a seat at her desk.

            “There’s no reason to bother with that,” she said, frowning at me slightly.

            I wasn’t even trying to read it, really; Olivia had thin, jumpy handwriting that translated into hardly much of anything when written with a marker. “I’m just curious, is all,” I said. “I’ve never seen one of these before.”

            She stood, walking over to me. With one finger she traced the line of the plot diagram in the air: a mountainous shape that started with a straight line, a slope upward, a point at the top, and then a slope downward. “That’s the base of a plot diagram. The straight line at the beginning represents the start of the story. That’s when you learn some backstory about your main character, a bit of the initial concept, an idea of what genre you’re dealing with… everything you need to move forward. Then, that point when the mountain starts sloping up—that’s the inciting event.”

            “Inciting event?” I asked.

            “Something happens that sets up the main plotline of the story,” she explained. “It’s like a call to arms, essentially. The main character now has to do something or be a part of something that will play out during the rest of the story. It also ties into the driving question—that’s the question that the reader wants answered throughout the entire plotline.”

            “Okay. What happens after the inciting event?”

            She gestured at the upwards slope. “The rising action. This is the main bulk of the story—the ‘middle,’ if you will. Here, stakes are raised, risks are made, and conflict is encountered. The farther you go up the slope, the more serious things get, as a general rule. By the time you reach the top, everything is tension and danger. There’s no safe spot left for the main character.”

            I nodded. “And what’s the point at the top called?”

            “The climax,” she said, smiling lightly. “The most important part of any story. The main character makes a decision or chooses to do something that he cannot turn back on. It is the point of no return. Ideally, in that very moment, all plotlines are resolved, all tension is dissolved, and the driving question is answered.”

            “And then?”

            She nodded at the downward slope. “Falling action. Usually very short. It’s simply a brief period after the climax where the solution is discussed and any remaining issues are put to rest. Some stories don’t even have it, in fact.”

            I glanced at the plot diagram, studying it in a new light. “That’s interesting. Thank you for telling me. So what is _this_ story, exactly?”

            She brought a hand up to her necklaces, fingering them. “Well, I wouldn’t worry about that too much. It isn’t anything important.”

            Feeling like I’d hit a brick wall in our conversation, I hesitated, studying her. She’d acted like this the last time I’d asked her about the contents of the plot diagram. At length I tried, “Er, could you show me your necklaces? They look interesting.”

            “Sure,” she said, unclipping them from her neck and handing them to me one by one. The first was a steel dragon with a black belly, its wings held up in a circular shape and its tail drifting out behind it. The next was a strange, barbed shape that looked like twin fangs poking out of a thorny mouth. All of the points were dagger sharp. After this was a steel shape that looked like a T with a loop over the crossbar. “What’s this?” I asked.

            “It’s called an Ankh,” she said. “The Egyptian symbol for life.”

            The next necklace was a small steel sword with a red gem encrusted in the center of the hilt. Two snakes were wrapped around the blade, facing one another near the base of the blade with their fangs bared. Finally, she handed me a red stone diamond with a steel clasp. “These are all really interesting,” I said, studying them. “How come you wear all of them?”

            She shrugged slightly. “I can’t say. I just like them, I suppose.”

            What did she mean by _suppose_? Either she liked them or she didn’t, right? Trying not to think about it, I said, “Where did you get them from?”

            “Ah…” she began collecting them from me, eyes lowered. “I can’t remember. It’s been awhile, I guess.”

            I watched her as she put the necklaces back on, frowning slightly. Sure, people forgot things. That wasn’t out of the ordinary. But something about her responses didn’t entirely add up, and it left me feeling strangely conflicted. I stayed with her a short while more before exiting the catacombs, mind still stuck wondering as to what exactly was going on with Olivia.

~ ~ ~ ~

            Later on that day, I found Jason wandering around in the forest, hands shoved in his pockets and expression clear. He glanced over as I approached, smiling lightly. “Hey Flynt! Let’s go exploring in the woods, okay? There’s gotta be something good in here that we haven’t found yet.”

            I spent some of the afternoon exploring the forest with Jason. As I had suspected, we didn’t find anything of much use, but I still had fun looking around with him. Even after everything that had happened, the forest still served as some sort of a calming force. I felt like the two of us had gotten a little closer.

            I sat down next to him on a felled tree, a few feet away from the path. He had his chin rested in the palm of one hand, glancing around with a relaxed expression. “So… Pokemon,” I said.

            He made a face. “If you’re going to talk about how it’s a kid’s game, don’t even bother. I get that enough as it is.”

            “N-No, I wasn’t going to say that,” I said, frowning slightly. “I think anyone should be able to play Pokemon if they want to. It doesn’t really have anything to do with age.”

            He huffed, shoulders slumping forward. “Sorry about that. I’ve just gotten used to that kind of response, I guess. At my old school, people gave me a lot of shit for being into Pokemon.”

            “How so?” I asked.

            “Well, alright, I guess it wasn’t _specifically_ with Pokemon,” he said. “They just gave me shit in general, for always being on my DS. But usually what I was doing on my DS was, well, Pokemon. It got really hard to deal with sometimes, but… whatever. I guess I just never got the memo that Pokemon stopped being cool.”

            “What do you mean?” I asked, quizzical. “ _I_ think Pokemon is still pretty cool. Just not all people play it the way you do.”

            “I guess,” he said, but didn’t seem satisfied.

            I studied him for a moment. “How did you get your title, anyway? I mean, it’s clear that you must know more about Pokemon than most other people do.”

            He raised his head, expression airy. “Well, what a lot of people don’t realize is that all that really matters in the game is stats. You know, your HP, Attack, Defense, Speed… The list goes on. If you can master and balance those successfully, then you’ve already beaten the game. _And_ anyone who tries to beat you.”

            “How do you balance the stats, then?”

            “It’s really a matter of deciding where you want your Pokemon’s weakness to be. A faster Pokemon might not last as long in battle, but a slower Pokemon could be near-impossible to kill. Finding out what you’re good at it is essential.”

            “I didn’t realize it was so involved,” I said.

            “Math,” he said, nodding sagely. “Math is the key. Math gets you stats which gets you success which gets you victory.”

            I grinned. “I can see how you got the title of Super High School Level Pokemon Player. You really know what you’re talking about. You’re passionate about it, too.”

            He shook his head, waving me away. “It’s no big deal. I’m of the impression that anyone can be good at anything if they try hard enough. All it takes is an open mind and a willingness to understand. I mean, without those things in the first place, then what’s the point of doing it at all?”

            “Well, maybe you can teach me some time,” I said, smiling.

            He rolled his eyes. “That’s only going to work out if I can find somewhere to charge my DS, you know? No electricity, remember?”

            I sighed. “Yeah, good point. I’m sure we can find something else to do.”

            “Of course,” he said.

~ ~ ~ ~

            She was sitting, eyes half closed, on top of the cafeteria table, the hunk of bread pressed against her lips as she chewed. She regarded us with dark eyes, flicking back and forth, taking everything in measured and calculated glances. Her gaze cut everyone it touched, like a weapon; a curse. I couldn’t tell who was observing who anymore. Despite the fact that she was sitting in the corner of the room, a good few feet away from the rest of us (who were crowded together and watching her), it nevertheless seemed as though she was the one with all the cards in her hand.

            Haley was the first to speak. “I still don’t understand how it is that you survived.”

            Olivia had just finished explaining to the others the details of her story that she’d already told me. I got the impression that no one really knew how to react. She glanced to the side. “I’m still not entirely ready to share that information.”

            “Then how do we know you’re not the mastermind?” Ohanzee asked. “It seems pretty likely that you are, all things considered.”

            “I can assure you that I’m not,” she said, eyes dark. “I am just as much the mastermind’s enemy as all of you are. They wouldn’t have locked me underground if that wasn’t the case.”

            “Still,” Enoch said. “You have to admit that it’s a plausible theory. You could have faked your own death and placed yourself underground, biding your time until we found you again, and then come out with this sob story all ready to go…”

            She shrugged, missive. “If you want to believe that I’m your enemy, go ahead. But it doesn’t mean that you’re right.”

            “She’s innocent,” Max said. He offered no explanation. As I glanced at him, he caught my gaze and immediately looked down again. There was a moment of stiff silence.

            “Either way,” Gigi said. “I think Olivia’s reappearance provides us with plenty of reason to open the bunker. If Monobear—or the mastermind—really put her down in those catacombs, then they would have said something when we found her, right? The fact that our ‘headmaster’ has stayed silent is evidence enough to me that he isn’t monitoring us right now.”

            Max made a face. “I don’t care. I’m not opening that bunker. It’s still far too big of a risk.”

            Gigi huffed, her hands balled into fists. “What if everything we need is in there, Max? What if that bunker contains supplies for us to escape? Floor plans? Something we can use to fight back? The mastermind? What if the contents of that bunker could tell us about whatever happened here?”

            Olivia raised her head. “You mean the Worst, Most Despair-Inducing Incident in the History of this Universe?”

            Calise blinked. “You… the what now?

            “Were those even real words?” Buck asked.

            “The Worst, Most Despair-Inducing Incident in the History of this Universe,” she repeated, eyeing us. “There’s… some information about it scattered around the catacombs. It appears to be some sort of catastrophe that happened at this campsite before we arrived.”

            “But why give something so important such a… _stupid_ name?” Jae asked, frowning.

            Olivia’s eyes flicked to the side. “I can’t say for certain.”

            This seemed to suddenly motivate Gigi. “Do you see what I’m talking about, Max? There are secrets hidden on this campsite, and I guarantee you that one of the biggest of them all is inside of that bunker. You _must_ open it.”

            He put his feet up on the table, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes but hers. “I will not do it.”

            “How about this,” she said, lips folded into a thin line. “Let’s go with Jae’s idea and have a masquerade party. If everything goes well during the masquerade, nothing suspicious happens, and above all no one dies, will you open the bunker _then_?”

            He was quiet for a moment, and then said, “Very well.”

            “A masquerade, huh?” Jason mused, pressing a finger to his lips. “Sounds like it might be fun.”

            “There are masks in the lodge,” Jae piped up. “We’ll have the party there too, because they have a ballroom. This is going to be great.”

            “And we all have formal attire, because we were required to bring it,” Neil said. “So all of us can dress up all fancy or whatever.”

            “It could be fun,” Haley said.

            “I’m game,” Gam said.

            Calise grinned. “This is awesome!”

            “Whatever,” Buck growled.

            The masquerade was planned for that night, as we needed enough time the next day for Max to open the bunker before Monobear returned. Everyone grew hectic in preparation; Gigi and Calise worked on the food while Jae ran to the lodge to decorate. Others hurried to get into costume or select masks from those available. I saw Olivia leaving in the ensuing melee, and ran to catch up with her.

            “Hey!”

            She turned. We were standing a few feet away from the cafeteria, the fire cracking audibly nearby. “Yes?” she said.

            “Will you come to the masquerade?” I asked.

            She looked away. “I don’t know. You all have a lot to worry about. It wouldn’t really be my place to get involved.”

            “You’re one of us, you know,” I said, shooting her a smile. “Just because you… faked your death and then disappeared doesn’t mean you’re not part of the group anymore. Although it _is_ a little weird.”

            She didn’t respond. “I’d still like to know what happened there,” I added, looking down. “I mean, when you think about it, it’s like my best friend died for nothing. I want to know… Why that had to happen-”

            My throat closed up and I fell silent. I couldn’t bring myself to look at her. “Ryan committed murder,” she said. Her voice was soft, but somehow firm at the same time. “He was executed for the crime he that he did, because he _did_ do it, and he believed with every facet of his being that he had. Monobear’s system may not be a good one, but it _is_ fair and it _is_ judicial.” She paused. “And I’m sorry that it turned out this way.”

            “But he didn’t do it,” I mumbled. “You’re still here.”

            “Let’s… not talk about this anymore,” she said, expression unreadable. She took a breath. “About the masquerade. I appreciate your sentiment, but there are… people who would probably prefer it if I didn’t make an appearance.”

            “That doesn’t matter,” I said. “We’ll all be wearing masks.”

            She looked distressed, and turned away. “I don’t know, I’ll think about it. Talk to you later, Flynt.”

            As I was watching her walk away, I heard someone stalk up beside me, and turned to see Gam. She watched Olivia’s retreating form in silence for a few moments, eyes dark and critical. “Didn’t you think something was weird about her story?” she asked me.

            “I’m not really sure,” I said, trying to laugh. “She didn’t give us all that much information.”

            Unperturbed, she muttered, “Olivia says she’s been down in those catacombs without food or water, yeah? But she didn’t tell us for how long, or how she got there in the first place. Suppose she ended up in the catacombs on the day she ‘died.’ There’s something off about that, right?”

            “Um… Yes?”

            “ _Yes,_ yes, Flynt,” she grumbled. “That’s about four days without food or water. Almost five. She would have been dead… _again._ The only thing you would have found down there would have been her dehydrated corpse.”

            “So she’s lying,” I said.

            Gam nodded, frowning. “Maybe. _Or_ it means that she was somewhere else for a while between her fake death and when she arrived in the catacombs. But the question is where. And why.”

            “I don’t like the sound of that,” I said, feeling my stomach twist. “It makes her sound… Well, like she’s the traitor.”

            “My thoughts exactly.”

            “Are you sure that there’s _no way_ she can be telling the truth?” I murmured.

            “Not unless she’s somehow transcended the laws of science,” Gam said, and then sighed. “Anyway, just food for thought at this point. I’ll see you at the masquerade.”

            I watched her go with a sinking feeling in my stomach. If Olivia was lying to us, then there was more to this story than I’d originally assumed. And I knew that if we didn’t figure out what exactly was going on here, there would be dire consequences. I didn’t know who to trust—or where to put most of my focus. All I could do now was get ready for the party that was to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Olivia's staying tight-lipped about our necklaces, so I'll give you some backstory.  
> The dragon was given to me by Enoch for Christmas of 2013. The weird "twin fang" thing is a necklace that my cousin got me many, many years ago. Hot Topic doesn't even sell it anymore and I've never seen it elsewhere, so good luck with that. The Ankh was one I purchased for myself, at the London Museum of Natural History last summer. The sword was purchased for me by my once-again-but-no-longer-let's-never-speak-her-name "friend" at Spencer's. And the diamond, of course, is my moirail necklace, an identical match to the one that the moirail in question, Aaron, has. His name will probably show up in these notes again. Prepare for it.
> 
> In theory I could have come up with something even more original for my "doomsday" title, but the Wiki recently changed all of their titles and information to the English DR version, so I didn't have an easily accessible source to work off of. Yes, I could have gone and dug up all of the doomsday titles and come up with something totally outlandish in their design, but I didn't really need to. "This Universe" is the only change that I really required. Universe has a nice punch to it, after all.


	16. 3.4 "Here and Back Again"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in a row? What madness is this!
> 
> Also, this chapter has earned itself a gore warning. Beware.

(Ab)normal Days Part 4

            That night, as the sun had dipped out of sight beneath the horizon and the stars glittered in quiet dissonance up above, I exited my cabin and set out for the masquerade party. Before I left, I took one quick look in the mirror; as Hope’s Peak had requested that every student bring formal wear, everyone had a suit to wear. Mine was a simple, black and white tuxedo, and I felt more than a little uncomfortable in it. The mask I’d chosen was fairly simple; one half was white and the other a dark blue that crossed over onto the white side in the form of long, reaching spirals. When I put it on, I got the eerie impression that the person in the mirror was a stranger, dark and foreboding, his every movement an imminent threat.

            Every window of the hunting lodge’s lower floor was lit. Long patches of light in the shape of window panes glittered in the grass. The air tasted of old wood and lavender, and I took a deep breath, nervous but excited. The double front doors had been propped open with rocks, an abundance of light spilling out of the opening. It took my eyes a moment to adjust to the interior. Every taper and every chandelier had been lit up, and the entire building seemed to glow. I made my way into the ballroom, intrigued.

            It was quite clear that Jae had devoted most of her decorating time towards clearing out the mass of cobwebs and dust that decorated the whole of the lodge. Now, it looked almost new. I could almost trick myself into thinking that this was still a running and well-oiled establishment, filled with people and laughter in every nook and cranny. It seemed as though I were the last student to arrive, as people were mingling and talking, some dancing to a stereo in the corner of the room. There were cookies and punch by the door, and next to it, a large tray filled solely with pizza rolls.

            Someone in a long, thin black dress and an even darker, lacy mask had walked up to the food table. The mask had two slender, pointed cat ears curving from the top, and I watched as she took a pizza roll and ate it. “Interesting food selection,” I said.

            She glanced my way and smirked lightly. “Oh, hello stranger,” she said, and then laughed under her breath. “Shit, this is kind of stupid, isn’t it?”

            “I think it’s fun,” I said, returning the smile.

            She looked away, then said, in a mock accent, “The selection was chosen by two strapping young ladies who go by the names of Gigi and Calise. We don’t have a lot of variation in terms of food, you know, so they thought their best option was to simply take a shitload of pizza rolls and roast them over the fucking firepit. Quite posh, mmm _mmm_ yes?

            “But this is simply not enough for a crowd as prestigious as we, oh no,” she continued. “They were clever and sneaky enough to include not only punch, but also _cookies_ in this immaculate spread. I for one have been fucking _blown away._ ”

            I snorted. “Have mercy, _madam._ I’m going to bust a lung!”

            She bit her tongue, passing me a wink, and then slipped back into the thick of the party.

            Taking a breath, I turned, looking for someone to talk to. I wasn’t going to try my luck at dancing—I had no idea how—but I still wanted some company. It wouldn’t really constitute as a party if I was just going to hang out in the corner, anyway. As I scanned the ballroom, my eye was caught by two people standing off to the side, to the right of the door, near pressed against the wall in terse conversation.

            One of them—the one closer to the wall—had her hands pressed together and her head raised as she studied her conversational partner. Her mask, like that of my previous charge, was shaped like a cat’s face, with slender ears. This one was purple with gold trim, however. She was wearing all black, her skirt draped in lace, and a long black cape, the hood up over her hair. The person talking with her had on a tuxedo like mine, his mask black on one half and red on the other, with golden trim and tassels that hung by his face. The eyes were like narrow slits, staring into those of the girl.

            I got the strange impression that something important was happening, and I didn’t dare to interrupt the conversation. He was talking for some time, voice too low to reach my ears. When he finally stopped, she lowered her gaze, gave him a soft response, and touched his shoulder. He stiffened at the contact. She lowered her hand—he turned and walked away.

            His path took him in my direction, head lowered as he approached. He looked up at me when we were a few feet away. “Hello, Flynt.”

            “H-Hey, you know who I am?” I said, startled.

            “Obviously,” he muttered in annoyance. “It’s easy to guess your identity with that ridiculous piece of hair bobbing around—what do the Japanese call it? Right, an ahoge. Why do you bother with that thing anyway?”

            “It’s not on purpose,” I said. “I woke up with it when we first arrived here, and now I can’t get rid of it. It’s not like I have a hairbrush or anything.”

            “Tch. Whatever,” he said.

            I made a face. “And even if you know, you shouldn’t be saying my name. We’re supposed to keep our identities hidden—that’s part of the party.”

            “That’s nothing more than a source of unnecessary trouble, if you ask me,” he said, pressing a finger against his mask. “This is Max, by the way, in case you couldn’t already tell.”

            I sighed, but didn’t protest any further, my thoughts caught up in the conversation I’d just seen. “What were you just talking about? It seemed pretty serious.”

            He leaned against the food table. “That was Olivia, and it _was_ pretty serious. Thank you for your concern.”

            I was more than a little irritated that he kept giving away people’s identities, but I decided not to comment. I was relieved that Olivia had chosen to show up in the first place, but, more importantly, intrigued by what could be going on. “Do you mind telling me what the conversation was about, exactly?”

            He shot a sideways glance at me, hesitant. At first I thought he would refuse, but then he said, “Do you remember when we were talking about our memories, and I told you that I had several reasons to believe that they had been stolen?”

            I nodded.

            “Well, I didn’t tell you about one of those reasons,” he said, and then nodded at Olivia, who was leaning against the wall. “ _Her._ ”

            I blinked. “What do you mean?”

            He sat up from the table, turning to face me, a dark, unpleasant grin on his face. “Olivia is my girlfriend, Flynt. I remember her with perfect clarity. But on the first day at this campsite, she looked at me with the eyes of an utter stranger. She didn’t even know my name.”

            My eyes went wide. “But… Why would Monobear make her forget about you?”

            “I don’t know,” he said. “But I hated him for it. I still do. And then I thought she had died, and… And _you_ showed up yesterday with your announcement…” His eyes wandered up to mine. “I would like to apologize for how I reacted. It was wrong of me to attack you like that, regardless of how I felt.”

            I spluttered, taken aback. “I-It was a perfectly reasonable response, now that I know the story-!”

            “That doesn’t make it right,” he said with a sigh. “But… I appreciate your understanding. You have given me a gift, after all. Now that she’s back, I just… I just want her to remember. I can _make_ her remember. I know I can.”

            Seemingly distracted, Max turned and began walking towards the other end of the ballroom. I watched him go in shock, trying to understand the information he had given me. He had been so quiet and reserved all this time, a vigil that was secretly filled with the mourning of the girl he loved. And now she was back. Everything was changing. Everything was in flux.

            Armed with this new knowledge, I turned towards Olivia, wanting to see if she would discuss it with me. She wasn’t looking my way, her eyes studying the nearby dancing on the other side of the ballroom. I took a breath, trying to formulate what I was going to say—and then someone grabbed my arm.

            I was spun around to look into the wide, empty eyes of yet another cat mask. This one was patterned black and white, like the fur of a real cat—over both eyes were two dark orange lenses, like goggles. The wearer was in a bright orange sundress, the skirt bobbing around her knees. It was clearly Gigi behind the mask, but I didn’t dare to give away her identity.

            “Greetings Fl-… Er, young man!” she said. “Would you do me the most prestigious honor of a dance?”

            “Uh…” I struggled to put together a convincing sentence. “Your offer is most kind, but I am forced to decline. I do not possess the… uh, ability, of dancing.”

            She giggled. “That is of no concern to me. Come, I’ll teach you.”

            “Wait-!” I yelped, but she was no longer listening. I was pulled onto the dance floor proper and into the heavy thump of the song that was playing. There were one or two other couples dancing in unison, but for the most part everyone was on their own. Gigi placed one hand on my ribs, making me stiffen, and the other on my shoulder.

            “To begin with,” she said, “I will lead. I know this is most improper, but it will have to do. Now, I want you to do exactly what I do, except the opposite.”

            “Wh-What?” I said, tripping over my own feet, and then hers.

            “Calm _down_ , Flyn—I mean, uh… Just calm down, alright? Follow the music if you’re confused.”

            I tried my best to follow her instructions, and at length we began dancing in a mostly acceptable manner, stepping in a steady, unpracticed rhythm about the whole of the ballroom. I had no idea what I was doing, but I nevertheless began to calm down. As I began to catch on, Gigi giggled, pleased.

            “Most impressive, young man!” she announced. “Now it is your turn to take the lead.”

            “Wait a minute Gigi, I don’t think that’s actually a good idea-”

            “Who is this Gigi you speak of?” she purred, smiling. “I know no one of the sort. Now, put your hand here, and your foot there, that’s the lead one—Good! Now dance!”

            I’d never felt more awkward and incapable before in my life, but I nevertheless managed to take the lead. As the dance proceeded, she began to talk. “So, how goes the party?”

            “I’m enjoying myself,” I said. “I mean, I haven’t done all that much so far. But it’s been fun.”

            “If all goes well, then perhaps we will be able to escape this place,” she said, cheery and light-footed. “Max made a promise, after all. I can only hope that this works out.”

            “But right now we’re having fun,” I said. “So there’s no need to worry about escape. Not yet at least.”

            “I _do_ like the way you think,” she hummed.

            We danced a while longer. I was relieved that it was a slow song—I highly doubted that I’d be able to keep up with anything faster. As the music faded out, she stepped back, releasing me. “Well done, good sir. You truly have the potential to be a fantastic dancer.”

            “Thanks,” I huffed, “But I’m sure that you’re just exaggerating. I’ve never danced before in my life.”

            “Mmm, perhaps that was your good luck with all the footwork then,” she said, grinning wildly—and then promptly frowned. “Er, what I mean to say is that it _would_ be, that is, if your title was Super High School Level Good Luck, but I do not know what you’re title is, because I do not know who _you_ are.”

            “ _Right_ ,” I said, and then laughed.

            Now that the dancing was over, I once again tried to find Olivia. She had moved from her previous location, and as I resumed my search I paused to study the masks of everyone who passed by. I saw an elegantly-colored purple one with sharp black lining, a skull-shaped mask, a delicate, lacy one, a sordid gray one with strange symbols on it, a fox one, and many others. As the crowd lessened, I found Olivia standing in one of the corners of the room, watching the proceedings with a tired expression. I walked over to her.

            “Hi,” I said.

            She glanced at me, mask glittering in the bright lights. “Hello. Are we doing the secret identity thing?”

            “No,” I said, smiling. “I was already told who you are, anyway. By Max.”

            She looked down, grinning lightly. “You two are the only ones to notice. No one that I know of has bothered to do a head count. Or perhaps they didn’t care in the first place. Everyone else must think I’m Gam, or something.”

            “So she was the other one with a cat mask?” I mused. “I figured as much. Anyway, I, um… I had something to ask you about.”

            “Yes?”

            “I was talking with Max, and he…” I was choosing my words carefully. “He said you two used to be dating. But Monobear took away all of your memories of him. Do you know why?”

            She laughed, tone dark, as though I’d just made a particularly sarcastic joke. “Monobear did far more than that. He wiped _all_ of my memories. Everything. I woke up on this campsite with a name and a title to work off of. Nothing else.”

            “You…” I blinked, startled. “You mean you don’t remember _anything_ before coming here? But why? Why would the mastermind need to do that?”

            “If I knew, I would tell you,” she said, absentmindedly adjusting the hood of her robe so that the hem lay just behind the ears of her mask.

            “But…” I took a breath. “Why now? Why didn’t you tell me about this earlier?”

            Her expression was dark. “You never asked. And, unlike some of you might think, I’m not here to pass out a sob story about how terrible my life is. Clearly my memories were important to the mastermind, but… I don’t have them anymore, so there’s no point in worrying about them right now. There’s nothing we can do about it.”

            I studied her. “I’m sorry about that…”

            She shook her head. “Let’s talk about something else. Please. The mastermind and their agenda can wait.”

            I looked around in concern, uncertain of what to talk about, but loathe to walk away and leave her here. Finally, I turned back and said, “How about we dance?”

            “With my once-again boyfriend watching, sure,” she scoffed, eyes half-closed in annoyance. “Ugh, there _always_ has to be domestics at a party. Leave it to me to be the one bringing them. This is why I didn’t want to come, you know. But who cares at this point? Let’s dance.”

            I took her hand, nervous but determined. The stereo was playing a far more upbeat song than it had been when I was with Gigi, and I had no idea what to do, but Olivia seemed to have her own ideas. She took up position with me in a way similar to Gigi’s style, but she swung with the music instead of swaying in the slow and gentle way that the former had. She was following no specific pattern or form that I was aware of, so I had no choice but to follow along. The music throbbed in my ears. I didn’t have enough time to keep up with my footwork, so I eventually abandoned it entirely, choosing to follow her sporadic rhythm.

            The music seemed to grow faster, drumming in my head. I had little idea of what was going on, but suddenly it didn’t seem to matter anymore. Suddenly we were dancing, and that was all I cared about. It was all that mattered. The music was rapid. Heart-pounding. She pulled abruptly pulled away, but I knew what to do; I lifted my hand up and spun her beneath it, over and over again, her skirt twisting out and billowing like a corkscrew, the music a siren, a scream. She spun and spun and my eyes spun with her, lost in the spiraling array of blackness, the echo of forgotten memories and lost students and dangerous masterminds and death, death, _death_ , gone and back again, over and over. She succumbed to dizziness and fell forward, into my arms.

            Her hand landed on my chest and my heartbeat quickened. I was certain that she could feel its pulsing thrum beneath her palm. Seemingly in response, she pulled away from me, breathless, expression one of estranged shock. I said, “Is something wrong?”

            Olivia’s pupils seemed to be dilating behind her mask. “I… I need to go.”

            “What? But the party isn’t over…”

            “It doesn’t matter,” she said, voice firm. “This isn’t right. I need… I need to go. Goodbye, Flynt.”

            “Wait!”

            She turned and ran from the ballroom. I followed her out into the foyer, watching as she dashed through the open door and into the cool, starlit night. Just like that, she was gone. Gone and back again. Feeling dazed, I lowered my hand from the door frame, uncertain of what to do with myself; or of how to respond. I felt a hand on my back and turned; it was Haley, eyes wide.

            “Flynt, is that you?” she said. “Something’s wrong.”

            I blinked. “You took your mask off.”

            “No time for that,” she murmured, urgent. “I just did a headcount. People are missing.”

            “How many of us are there?” I asked.

            “I made sure to check when everyone came in,” she said, looking down in thought. “There were 13 of us, counting Olivia, which was how it was supposed to be. Now there’s only nine.”

            “Olivia just left. I, uh, saw her out,” I said slowly. “Which means that there are three people missing.”

            “You need to help me loo-”

            There was a scream.

            Haley grabbed my arm—“Come on!”—and we ran through the foyer and down the hall towards the door. She turned at the last second, towards the source of the scream—the men’s bathroom. Inside, we found someone in a skull mask, looking down at the one thing that everyone wanted to avoid.

            A dead body was slumped against the back wall of the bathroom, their head covered by that of an elk’s.

            The person in the skull mask turned to us, his face twisted in confusion. “What the fuck is going on here?”

            “I-I don’t know,” I said. “Who are you? Enoch?”

            “No!” he snapped, ripping off the mask. It was Buck. “Why the fuck would you confuse me with a fucker like him?”

            “Wait, were you screaming?” Haley asked.

            “Shut up!” he said. “I don’t scream!”

            There was movement at the door. “Hey guys, I think Ohanzee is miss—oh _fuck._ ”

            The real Enoch was standing in the doorway, his mask in hand. It was the grayish one with odd symbols on it. He adjusted his bow tie in a judicial manner. “I was going to say that Ohanzee is missing,” he murmured, “But I think we just found him.”

            “Do you really think this is him?” I said, feeling my stomach sink.

            “We need to get the other students,” Haley said, a distant note of panic in her voice.

            “But we can’t leave the body here!” Buck said. “What if the killer is still around? They might fuck with it.”

            She hesitated, then conceded: “Buck and I will stay here. You guys go tell everyone else, quickly!”

            I followed Enoch out of the bathroom, heart pounding. As we turned the corner into the party, I yelled, “Someone is dead and other students are missing!”

            “ _What?_ ” Jason yelped, looking frazzled. “What do you mean? Who’s missing? There’s a dead body?”

            “We need to…” I took a breath, trying to think. “We need to split up. Someone needs to go to the clearing and alert Monobear. The rest of us can go help Buck and Haley… find out who is dead.”

            “I’ll go with Flynt to tell Monobear,” Enoch said.

            “Me too,” Max added.

            Jason and Neil also offered their help. That left Gigi, Haley, Buck, Calise, and Gam to stay at the lodge. In my head, I did a quick headcount—the five of us plus the five of them made ten; counting the dead body was 11… that meant that one student was still missing. This was, more than likely, the killer. Trying not to think too hard about it, I darted out of the building, the others following.

            “Monobear just said to pull the switch on the speaker at the firepit, right?” Neil asked me as we ran, expression twisted into one of concern. Most everyone had already taken off their masks, and he was no exception. “That’ll tell him that someone died?”

            “I think so,” I said, trying to focus. There was so much going on now and I could hardly keep track of what was correct and what wasn’t. All I knew was that we should hurry. Who knew what would happen if we waited?

            Just as I was thinking that, I heard a gargled, choked scream off to my left, in the thick of the nearby trees.

            “What was that?” Max asked, nervous.

            “Th-There was another student missing earlier,” I said, feeling sick. Without another word, he darted into the trees—I and the others soon followed.

            The trees had organized themselves into a thin, wavy ring; in the center of this, someone had set up a small metal motor, a coil of wire wrapped around the spool in its center. It was rapidly winding up, emitting a low-pitched hiss as it went. The other end of the wire, quickly pulling taut, had been tied into a noose—and this noose was around the neck of Jae, who was tied to one of the wooden posts in the ground, her right arm gone from the elbow down, face twisted in pain.

            “Wh-What the fuck?” Enoch said. A startled gasp escaped Max; he darted forward and set himself on the wire, trying to pull it off from around her neck—but it was already too tight. There was no way to get it passed her head. In fact, she couldn’t even talk: only a few small, pained rasps escaped her throat.

            Max turned and descended on the wire itself, trying to pull it out of the motor or otherwise impede it, but it was impossible with his bare hands. He spun around to face the rest of us, voice loud and demanding. “Neil, run ahead and sound the alarm. While you’re there, try to get a knife from the kitchen and bring it back. The faster, the better.”

            “He won’t get back here in time!” Enoch said, voice strained. I remembered that Jae was his sister and stiffened.

            Neil had already taken off, well aware of the threat. “S-Send someone else back to the lodge,” I suggested. “Maybe Buck has something we can use?”

            “I’m on it,” Jason said, and was gone. All that remained were Max, Enoch, and I—and of course Jae, softly rasping in pain. I stared at her severed arm and felt like I was going to throw up. Who could have done this to her?

            I could see by Max’s expression that he had little faith in either of our charges. He turned his attentions to the motor, prying at it with his bare hands, scrabbling at the unforgiving metal, looking for any way to stop it. The machine continued to hiss, rolling the wire ever-tighter, impartial and unforgiving. Jae’s rasps had turned into chokes.

            “Fuck-!” he yelled, thumping the top of it in frustration.

            Enoch ran over to Jae herself, kneeling in front of her. “We—we’re gonna get you out, okay? Listen to me, you’re gonna be fine. You’re not going to die, you’re fine…”

            I watched the wire. It was already disturbingly tight around her neck, and we only had a matter of seconds before it would cut into flesh. Dismay rose in my chest, sticking in my throat like a sickness. “What do we do? How do we stop it? Someone tell me what to do. We can stop it, right?”

            “ _Fuck!_ ” Max screamed at the top of his lungs, actions raw with panic; clawing at the motor, yanking at the wire. “ _We have to save her! We have to stop it! Stop it! Stop!_ ”

            Enoch’s eyes were wide with fear. “N-No… No, she’s my sister, she can’t-” He stopped suddenly and reached out with one hand, wrapping it under the wire and pulling. “I can get it off. I can get it off of her-!”

            All the while, Jae was shaking her head as much as she was physically able to, and then I realized why. Enoch’s words were cut off with an agonized scream as the wire cut through his fingers. He pulled away, staggering backwards, and a spray of blood followed his hand. His scream did not end. It spread onward, loud and endless.

            Max was screaming, too: a myriad of profanities that spilled from his mouth in helplessness and rage. I stood there. What could I do? What could anyone possibly do?

            Enoch was sitting in the grass, clutching at his hand, blood spilling openly from it. Jae looked dazed; choking rasps and coughs caught in her throat, but she nevertheless turned to look at him. Their eyes met. She smiled weakly. Then the wire pulled through her neck and her eyes rolled back—blood shot from her like a fountain. Max screamed. Enoch tried to scream, but his vocal chords were already shot, so he managed nothing more than a hoarse gurgle. I fell to my knees.

            The wire was still snaking backwards, despite the fact that Jae was dead. It twisted tighter and her head slipped from her shoulders, tumbling to the ground. I lowered my head and pressed my hands to the grass, shaking all over. The screaming wouldn’t end. The torrent of blood wouldn’t end. I was stuck at the middle, spinning and spinning, over and over, like a billowing skirt, like memories lost, like an afterthought. Here and back again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The "cookies and punch by the door" is a reference to "Captain Hook the Biker Gorilla," the infamous parody to the equally infamous Rainbow Factory. If you haven't seen it, you haven't lived.
> 
> The pizza rolls is actually entirely Enoch and Jae's fault. They were over while I was writing this, so I asked for their advice on what the food should be at the party. Jae jokingly suggested, "Let's order a pizza." So I said, "Fine, we'll just have fucking pizza rolls." It happened.
> 
> Enoch's mask is a reference to the game Fatal Frame, wherein there is a mask called the Blinding Mask. There are two spikes going through the eyes, meant to blind the wearer. Obviously Enoch's mask did not blind him, but the design was intended to be the same.
> 
> A special thanks to the English Club at my college for giving me the Elk head idea. It got so popular that it actually turned into an in-joke--whenever we're talking about character deaths, we say that that character got "elk-headed."
> 
> Jae's missing arm is based off of one of her OCs, Venice, who lost his right arm to a group of Assassins. Long story. I won't get into it unless requested. 
> 
> Jae's entire death is based off of the movie The Counselor, a reference which was shown to me and inspired by Laura. So thank you, Laura.
> 
> The other inspiration for her death scene was the fact that she actually got to die in real time--this was inspired by a thread in the group. I think Gam started it. No matter who it was, someone in the group briefly touched on the fact that no one in DR ever got a death scene. They were always dead when the other students found them. I got to thinking, and... Well, here we are.


	17. 3.5 "Equivalent Exchange"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Investigation time! (Finally.)

Investigation

            I barely heard the sharp, clear ring of the alarm when it reverberated through the campsite, and I certainly didn’t recognize what it was. Not at first. I couldn’t think straight through the haze of red, the sharp cries and chokes of my peers, and the thick, cloying smell of blood that stuck in my nose. I realized, as though from a great distance, that I was screaming. I abruptly stopped, staring at the grass and struggling to think. The alarm was still ringing—Neil must have pulled the switch in the clearing.

            Just like my screams, the alarm stopped suddenly and without warning. What replaced it was a silent, perfectly empty stillness, interrupted only by the soft hiss of grass as it struggled against a thin breeze. No one moved. No one spoke. I realized I wasn’t breathing and forced myself to take in some air.

            And then the bushes rustled and he was there.

            “Eh? What’s this?” Monobear hummed. He was a few feet away from me, but it felt like his voice was right against my ear. “Wow, someone really went all-out while I was gone. Maybe I should take breaks more often!”

            “Shut your mouth,” Max murmured, voice low.

            He laughed, then said, “Hey, I’ve been all holed up for the past three days. I deserve to make some jokes, right? I’m just trying to lighten the mood. I thought you would appreciate that.”

            None of us said anything, so he turned to the side, paw pressed to his garish mouth in thought. “Well, I should probably gather the other students. You guys need to solve this murder, don’t you?”

            “There are two bodies,” I heard myself say.

            “Eh?” he looked at me, blinking. “What’s that? Two deaths at once? How… How predictable! Upupupupu!”

            He left without offering a single word of explanation. Running a head across my face, I raised my head to see that Max had gotten up and walked over to Enoch, who hadn’t moved since getting injured. He was holding his bleeding hand to his chest with the other one, eyes wide and mouth hung open, as though in a daze. If he could see Max, he made no sign of it.

            He knelt, touching Enoch’s shoulder gently. “Enoch? You are bleeding quite badly. Do you think you will be able to walk?”

            He didn’t respond. He just sat there. His eyes never moved, pupils fixated on the point in the air where Jae’s eyes had been before she died. I could not wipe his blank expression from my memory; his look of utter, impenetrable emptiness.

            After a moment of stiff hesitation, Max walked behind Enoch and pulled him to his feet, wrapping his arms around his shoulders to steady him. He looked at me. “I’m taking him to the infirmary. Could you… explain the situation to the other students when they arrive?”

            I nodded, heart in my mouth, watching him guide Enoch away. I did not have to suffer alone with Jae’s body for long; soon I heard footsteps coming up from behind, and turned when someone yelled an anguished “ _Fuck!_ ”

            It was Neil, expression swallowed in dismay. In one hand was a kitchen knife; presumably his weapon of choice for cutting the wire. But he was far too late. We were silent for a moment, he regarding the body and me regarding him. Then I said, “You sounded the alarm.”

            He glanced my way, understood my desire to _not_ address his failure, and then looked down. “It’s what we were supposed to do, right? And anyway, you guys told me to.”

            I nodded slightly. “Thank you. You… You tried your best.”

            “No, I didn’t,” he said, lower lip almost twitching in a barely-concealed agitation. “She died. My best would have kept her alive.”

            I couldn’t think of a worthwhile response, so I said nothing. At length, the thud of more footsteps approached us, and I saw Buck and Jason running through the trees, a familiar backpack slung over the shoulder of the former. When they entered the copse, however, they immediately saw that they were too late.

            “Holy hell…” Buck murmured, studying the crime scene.

            Jason was still for a moment, then rounded on him in agitation. “See? I told you to hurry up! If you hadn’t been so slow, we could have saved her!”

            “ _What?_ ” he snapped. “I was fuckin’ running here. If anyone was being slow, it was you!”

            Jason huffed in response, looking away. He ran his hands back through his hair and then forward again, struggling to stay calm. Then he looked to me. “Where are Max and Enoch?”

            “Enoch got injured,” I said. “Max took him to the infirmary.”

            “Injured?” he asked.

            “How?” Neil said.

            “Th-The wire,” I responded, letting my gaze flick to the gruesome scene in front of us and then away again. “There was too much pressure. He tried to pull it off of her and it cut his hand…”

            At length, the other students arrived. I found myself explaining what had happened to the group, who listened in an attentive and awestruck horror. Concern and fear painted the face of every student—there were two victims. Who knew if the culprit would strike again?

            As soon as we began to discuss this, the speakers clicked on. “Eh, this is your headmaster speaking. Long time no, um, see! We have a few things to discuss. Firstly, a body has been discovered. Secondly, another body has been discovered. After a brief period of investigation, a school trial will commence!

            “Also, I would like to take this time to add a new rule to your ElectroIDs. A culprit is only allowed to claim a maximum of two victims; killing any more than this will result in an immediate punishment, with no trial. Please keep this in mind as we proceed forward. Um, I think that’s all. Happy investigating!”

            When the speakers turned off, there was a moment of silence. “It seems as though Monobear has thought of this too,” Haley said, frowning. “Well, at least this keeps us safe from another murder.”

            “And I believe we’ve just been granted a very useful hint,” Gigi added. “Why would Monobear add that rule if the victims had been killed by two separate people? I think this means that we only have one culprit to deal with.”

            “But… would one of us really do that?” Calise said. “Kill two of us? And like _this_?”

            We were quiet for a moment. Then Buck said, “Hey, quick question.”

            “Yeah?” Neil asked.

            “We still don’t know how Monobear knows who the culprit is, do we?” he said. “What if he’s just in the dark as we are?”

            “It’s a possibility we can’t ignore,” Gam conceded, frowning. “But I don’t think he would take _that_ big of a risk. Even if he wasn’t monitoring us—and I don’t think he was—he had to have _some_ way of knowing for certain who the killer was. We should try to figure out what that was, I suppose.”

            I nodded. “Gam is right. There’s a lot of weird things about this case. Investigating is going to be really important.”

            “We should assign guards to the bodies,” Neil murmured. “…I’ll stay here. With Jae.”

            “I can go with Neil,” Calise offered.

            “I’ll guard the other body,” Buck said.

            Jason nodded. “Me too.”

            Gradually, we began to split up. As I watched, it occurred to me how few of us were left. With Calise, Neil, Buck, and Jason guarding bodies, and Max and Enoch at the infirmary, there were only four of us left to investigate. Or… was it five? Olivia was still around, after all. I knew I should talk with her soon, but with Monobear watching, things could get tricky. First, I wanted to investigate the body in the lodge. It would give me a chance to get away from this raw smell of fresh blood, at the very least.

            As I walked over, I pulled out my ElectroID to study the first Monobear file, only to find that there was nothing new there. I frowned at it, puzzled—then the speakers clicked on: “Um, sorry, but it’s gonna be a few minutes before I can get the new Monobear files up. I mean, I’ve been gone for a while. I’ve gotta get caught up on the situation, okay? Thanks!”

            Annoyed by how cryptic he was acting, but nevertheless determined, I proceeded to the lodge. I found Buck leaning against the doorway outside of the mens’ bathroom, frowning. “What’s the matter?’ I asked.

            “Students are dead? What the fuck do you think is wrong?” he growled.

            I made a face, then said, “Where’s Jason?”

            “Said he wanted to investigate Jae’s body first. I’m waiting outside so you fuckers don’t get suspicious of me.”

            I grinned lightly. “Well, I’m here now, so I can confirm your alibi. Come on, I want to figure out what happened here.”

            I steeled myself before we entered. Inside, the body was slumped against the wall, the dead eyes of the elk head boring into us. The head itself was startlingly large, the edges of its furred neck reaching well over the shoulders and across the chest of the victim. Its antlers were curved and elegant, branches pointed like spears. I couldn’t see any blood anywhere, which both relieved and concerned me.

            “That thing looks heavy,” Buck muttered.

            “And familiar,” I added. “Haven’t we seen this before somewhere?”

            “Yeah,” he said. “It was hanging over the front door of the lodge. The culprit must have moved it.”

            I frowned. “But it was really high up, and this head is big. It must have taken a lot of effort to move it.”

            “You’re right,” he said. “An obscene amount of effort. So maybe they didn’t move it at all.”

            “What do you mean?” I asked.

            He shook his head. “Not sure yet. I need to think about it. Gimme some time.”

            I studied his faraway expression, then ventured, “So you’re helping us now?”

            “What?” he said, expression critical.

            “During past investigations, you haven’t been all that… cooperative. But you seem interested in working with us to solve the case now. Does that mean you want to help us?”

            He studied me for a long moment. I thought I might have lost him, because his expression was questioning, but he didn’t press me further. His lip twitched slightly, reflexive, and then he said, “When we got access to this new area, and you found me curled up in that duralumin crate… There’s a reason I was there.”

            “I’d wondered about that,” I said. “What was it?”

            His eyes darted away. “That night, when Dani was executed. I went to my cabin and figured I was probably the most useless piece of fuck there had ever been. All I did was get other people dead and act like a stupid fuck-up. So I decided I might as well kill myself.

            “But I couldn’t do it, Flynt. That was the thing. I was so weak and pitiful and utterly pointless that I couldn’t even muster up the courage to end it all. When the new area was unlocked, I thought I might as well go down there and find some nice, quiet place to rot away, but even if you hadn’t found me, I know I would have gotten out eventually. That’s how terrible I really am. I’m so terrible that I don’t even have the strength to give up.”

            I was briefly taken aback by how forward he was. “Buck… You—you’re not pointless. You’re trying to help now, aren’t you?”

            “Well, that’s the thing,” he said, and took a deep breath. “I think, if a waste of space like me is going to insist on living, then I might as well try to do something useful while I’m at it.”

            I offered him a smile. “You’re not a waste of space. But I _am_ glad that you’ve decided to help. Now, we might as well try to remove this elk head.”

            Positioning ourselves on either side of the body, we curled our fingers inside of the head’s neck and carefully hefted it off of the victim. It definitely weighed a great deal; there was no doubt in my mind that it would have been a pain for the culprit to deal with. We placed it down next to the body.

            I braced myself, expecting to see Ohanzee’s dead, gaunt face beneath, but instead I was met with empty air. His head had been removed, leaving nothing but a bloody, severed stump. All the blood on the body had been covered by the elk head; it spread along his shirt front and all over the still-connected half of his neck. “Shit,” Buck said. “Well… at least now we know how he died.”

            “Maybe,” I said. “The culprit could have removed his head afterwards.”

            He huffed. “Either way, we have to find the fuckin’ thing now. Jesus, what a dick move. This culprit really had a stick up his ass. Or maybe he just wanted to make shit hard for us.”

            “You might be on to something there,” I said. “What if this was part of some ploy to make this a challenge?”

            Buck shrugged. “Maybe,” he said, then made a face. “Don’t you think there’s something weird about this though? Shouldn’t there be more blood?”

            I nodded, remembering the gruesome scene with Jae. “There should be a _lot_ more blood. I suppose we’ll have to find that too now.”

            “Let’s… put the elk head back on,” he murmured after a moment. “It’s better than nothing.”

            No sooner had we finished this task that I heard a shout of alarm from one of the nearby rooms, startling me. I glanced at Buck, who shrugged, then ran out to see what was going on.

            I saw Gam standing just outside of the storage room, her eyes wide. I ran up. “What’s wrong?”

            “ _Look,_ ” she said, gesturing into the room, and I did.

            Pinned to the middle of the wall of masks was a head, donning a flared mask with long, colorful strips cascading off of it like a mane. Several of the strips were crumpled around the side of his head, as though they had been smashed. A long trail of red ran from the stump of the neck to the ground, where an abundance of blood was coating the floor. A bucket sat in one corner, a towel next to it. Again, the smell clotted in my nose and refused to leave. I thought I was going to be sick.

            Looking determined, Gam stepped forward and raised her hand to the head. I saw her fingers shake slightly as she pulled back the mask and peered underneath it. “I-It’s Ohanzee’s,” she said.

            “Look at all this blood,” I said. “Clearly it came from when he got his head cut off.”

            “And his mask looks damaged. Maybe the killer attacked him?”

            “I guess so,” I said.

            “Yeah. And this bucket—fuck.”

            She had knelt down next to the object in question, but rapidly staggered away, grimacing in disgust. I peered into it. An accumulation of red-tinted water filled the bucket, but that’s not what had caught her attention—an arm was resting in the liquid, hand slumped to one side of the rim. “It must be Jae’s,” I said, feeling severely sickened.

            “S-So… did this blood come from her or from Ohanzee?” Gam asked after taking a deep breath.

            “I don’t know,” I said, “but maybe we should go back to where Ohanzee’s body is. There must be a reason for all of this. Maybe we can find it there.”

            “Good idea,” she said.

            As we were walking, the speakers clicked on. “Hi! It’s your headmaster again. I’m really sorry about bothering you so much today, but I just wanted to you know that the Monobear files are all written up and ready for you. You should probably check those out if you want to be successful during the investigation!”

            Not wanting to waste any time, I opened up my ElectroID and began to read.

            _The victim is Ohanzee Bradley. The time of death is around 8:15 at night. His body was found in the mens’ bathroom in the hunting lodge. His head has been removed, and the cuts around his neck are jagged and irregular. Severe damage has been inflicted to the cranial area. There are no traces of poison or other drugs._

“No cause of death again,” Gam noted. “The culprit must have disguised it in some way.”

            I nodded, frowning. “It seems like it. You know, on second thought, I think I’ve already seen all I can of the body. It might be a better idea to investigate the… _items_ in the mask room.”

            “I’m gonna head on into the bathroom anyway,” she said. “Good luck. Oh, and—do you think you could come talk to me later? There’s something we need to discuss.”

            I was a little surprised, but I nevertheless said, “Sure. I’ll meet you in the bathroom in a few minutes.”

            I hesitated at the threshold to the mask room, studying the spattering of blood on the floor. I was loathe to walk across it, but I inevitably convinced myself to proceed based on the fact that it had long since dried. The Monobear file mentioned damage to the head; I approached it slowly, wary of the macabre display. As I walked, I noticed that the masks on either side of it were secured to the wall by small wooden spikes going through the eye holes, much like the pegs on a stand for sunglasses. It quickly became apparent that the head had been shoved onto one of these spikes; as I rounded the corner, I saw a bloody gore decorating the back of the head and the wall that it had been pressed against.

            “Hmm, that’s interesting,” a voice said in my ear. I wheeled in shock, on edge, and nearly impaled _my_ head on one of the spikes as I spun around. Max was standing mere inches away from me, peering at the damage done to Ohanzee’s skull.

            “Max!” I yelped. “Don’t scare me like that!”

            He blinked. “Sorry?”

            I took a breath, then said, “No, it’s fine. I-I guess I’m just on edge. This stuff is… creepy.”

            He gave the head a pointed glance. “Quite.”

            “Um… The Monobear file said that his head had been damaged. I think this is what it was talking about.”

            Finger pressed to his lips, he took a moment to study the brutality in front of us. “Possibly… but I don’t really think that makes sense. If the culprit had put his head here _after_ removing it, then the damage wouldn’t be relevant to the case, would it?”

            “But the file would still have to include it, right?” I said.

            “I suppose,” he murmured. “But it still doesn’t add up to me. Why even put his head on this spike in the first place? It doesn’t really seem logical.”

            “The culprit could have been putting on a show.”

            “Yes, that’s always possible. I still think it’s worth considering alternatives, though.”

            I took a moment to study the other spikes on the wall; they were free of blood, as were the masks on them. That seemed odd to me, but I couldn’t quite place why. I was quickly distracted by one of the masks on the wall, however. It was a white and red one, designed to look like the face of a fox. I picked it up. “This looks… familiar.”

            Max nodded. “You probably saw it at the party. It was Jae’s.”

            I swallowed, remembering her death. “She wasn’t wearing it when… When everything happened. I wonder how it got here.”

            “Perhaps she took it off for some reason, and had the common decency of putting it back where it belonged.”

            “Yeah, I guess. Still, it seems kind of strange.” I turned away from the wall of masks, sighing. “How is Enoch?”

            Max glanced away, lips pressed together in a thin line. “It’s… complicated. I actually came over here because I wanted to talk to you about that. He’s a little… out of it, and I think it would help if he could talk with someone who was there when Jae died.”

            “You were there,” I said, confused.

            “I know,” he murmured, “but I can’t get through to him. I would appreciate it if you could find a spare moment to come down to the infirmary.”

            “Sure,” I said.

            After he left, I knelt to study the bucket containing Jae’s arm. I was loathe to touch it, but I tipped the bucket slightly to get a better look at the contents. The water inside was foggy and tinted red, likely from the blood. The hand was lying against the lip; I couldn’t see the actual injury. Grimacing, I forced myself to grab it by the wrist, lifting it out of the liquid so that I could see where it was cut off. Just like with Ohanzee’s head, the cuts were jagged and irregular.

            As I was placing the arm back into the water, I heard the sound of something moving in the bottom of the bucket; a scraping noise, as though the appendage had displaced something. Groaning, I looked away and then shoved my hand into the liquid, making contact with the object on the bottom and quickly pulling it out. It was a knife.

            Mind reeling, but not yet able to make any conclusions, I put the knife back in the bucket and glanced at the towel next to it. It was dotted with red stains, so I could only assume that the culprit had used it to clean up blood. But with all of the blood in the room, I couldn’t have imagined anyone even trying to straighten up this room. I was suspicious, but I couldn’t say anything for certain, so I cleaned my arm off on the towel and made my way back to the bathroom. Gam was leaning against one of the stall doors, seemingly lost in thought. She blinked as I approached. “There you are.”

            “Was I keeping you waiting?”

            “Not really,” she said. “Anyway, I had a theory about this murder, and I wanted to run it by you.”

            “Okay,” I said.

            She glanced briefly at Buck, standing in front of Ohanzee’s body, then grabbed my arm and guided me closer to the entrance. Voice low, she said, “What if Olivia is the killer?”

            My eyes widened in surprise; that hadn’t really occurred to me. Glancing around to confirm that there were no security cameras in the bathroom, I murmured, “Do you suspect her?”

            “Sort of,” she said, looking away. “It’s possible. I mean, in her situation, it isn’t likely for any of us to think it was her. She’s potentially set up for the perfect crime. And why would we suspect her? She’s been nothing but victimized this whole time. Hell, she was _literally a victim_ at one point. But still…”

            “The circumstances are suspicious,” I said with a light nod. “I was planning on talking to her before the trial. I’ll see if I can’t confirm or deny your theory.”

            She grinned, looking relieved. “Thanks, Flynt. Good luck.”

            As I was making my way towards the lodge’s exit, I paused to glance up at the space above the wide, double doors. The elk head that had previously hung above them was missing, thereby confirming the original location of the one that was over Ohanzee’s body. On the wall, to the right of the door, I saw a wide, smeared red blemish covering the wood. Upon closer inspection, it appeared to be blood. It looked like someone had tried to wipe it out, but they hadn’t been very successful. I studied it with a frown until I heard footsteps approaching the entrance, and looked up to see Jason, seemingly frazzled.

            “Jeez, nothing happened here while I was gone, right?” he asked, agitated.

            “No,” I said. “What’s the matter?”

            He sighed. “My investigation went on a little longer than I thought it would. I hope Buck isn’t upset. I just wanted to get a good look at what had happened before I started guard duty. I didn’t want to be unprepared, you know?”

            “I get it,” I said. “Did you find out anything interesting?”

            “Hmm…” he rubbed his chin with one hand, placing the other on his hip. “I’m mostly curious about that motor that the culprit used to tighten the wire. It appears to have been modified to their purposes in some way, though no really big changes were made.”

            “Any ideas where they got it from?” I asked.

            “Probably the tack store,” he said. “I think they had something like that there. Anyway, talk later.”

            Outside, I found myself walking slower than normal, not looking forward to seeing the scene of Jae’s death again. But I had no choice, of course. If I wanted to survive, I had to gain as much information as I possibly could about these murders. That didn’t make me any more eager to do it, however. Stalling for time, I pulled out my ElectroID and read her entry.

            _The victim is Jae Brown. They died around 8:30 at night. The death was caused from extreme pressure being applied to the neck, leading to the rupturing of the jugular. The cut through the neck is clean and straight. The right arm has been removed; the cut at the elbow is jagged and irregular. There are no traces of poison._

I narrowed my eyes at the entry, suspicious. Something about it seemed off, and I couldn’t quite place what it was. Soon I had reached the dip off of the pavement leading to where she had died. Unable to wait any longer, I took a deep breath and walked over.

            The scene hadn’t changed much since I’d last been here. Jae’s head was resting a few feet away from her body, face down, in the middle of a pool of blood that spread almost all the way around the clearing. In the ground, near the center of the area, was a short wooden pole, probably meant to mark out the sidewalk nearby. Jae’s body had been tied to it using a long wire—it wrapped around her left arm, securing it to the pole, and all across her body, from her chest to her hips. She was sitting on her knees, the empty slope of her neck coming up to just above the top of the pole. With her right arm missing and her left secured, there was no way she could have struggled or tried to fight her way out of the situation. The wire previously around her neck had retracted all the way back to the motor that it emerged from, the knotted hunk of the noose clicking rhythmically against the motor’s mouth. I could see why Buck had wanted to return the elk head to Ohanzee’s body—seeing Jae without her head, slumped forward against her bonds, was more than a little erroneous. It suddenly struck me that I had been thinking of her as a female. What if he had died while in the male persuasion? Or the… flamingo persuasion? What would the Super High School Level Roleplayer have wanted me to use? A bitter sadness stung me at the realization that I would never know the answer.

            Trying to stay focused, I decided I would take a look at the motor first. The repetitive clicking of the wire’s bloody, tightened noose was more than enough motivation for me to try and turn it off. The motor was small, blocky, and very simplistic. Inside of it was the wheel that had coiled up the wire and the square mechanism of gears and electric wires that made it run. Assuming it was battery-powered, I tried to find where the batteries were stored, but there was nothing on the sides or the top. I picked it up and found the case along the bottom, only to discover that it was held in place with screws. Even if we had found it while she was alive, we wouldn’t have been able to get the batteries out.

            In truth, it was an ingenious choice on the culprit’s part. We couldn’t stop the motor by turning it off or removing the power source, and pulling on it or trying to move it would only have made things worse for Jae. Breaking it would have been unpredictable—it _might_ have stopped, but it also might have sped up or malfunctioned. And, because we weren’t expecting this, we didn’t have the necessary supplies to break it anyway. There was no way to stop it from completing its bloody assault on Jae.

            I then turned my attention to the wire, though I couldn’t see much of it. The knotted end of the noose was caught in the mouth of the motor, causing it to click against the plastic as the machine relentlessly tried to pull it back. The noose had shrunk to a hole the size of a quarter, having been reduced to this size as it tightened around Jae’s neck. The entire visible length of it was dyed red from the blood.

            I heard footsteps behind me and turned to see Neil. He had his arms crossed, eyes flicking about the crime scene in a nervous, agitated fashion. “Hey,” he said, though with the way he was acting, it was hard to tell if he was actually talking to me or not. “How’s the investigation going?”

            “Okay, I guess,” I said. “How’s the guarding going?”

            He hesitated briefly before saying, “Shit. Total shit. I-I keep thinking—what if I’d been a little faster? I could have cut the wire. I could have saved Jae.”

            I glanced down at the wire. A sharp knife or similar weapon likely would have been enough to cut it—but I didn’t say that aloud. “Well… You tried, didn’t you? You went to the kitchen and everything? That’s all we could have asked of you.”

            “Yeah, I did.” He was quiet for a moment. “You know, there was something weird about the kitchen when I went in there.”

            “Really?”

            “Mmhm. One of the knives was missing from the rack. I didn’t really think much of it at the time, considering how distracted I was, but now it seems kind of strange.”

            “That… is kind of weird,” I said. “Thanks for telling me.”

            “Yep. Anyway, this wire.” He knelt to look study it, eyes flicking back towards Jae’s body a few feet in front of us. “The culprit set things up this way on purpose, I think. There’s enough distance between her and the motor that the wire tightened quickly, but not so much distance that she choked before it could cut her. Everything here was done really deliberately.”

            “But why?” I mused. “There would have been so many simpler ways to do it. Why go to all of this effort?”

            “I have no idea,” he murmured.

            I approached the actual body next, studying the knots tying her to the pole from behind. A quick inspection of the wire revealed that it was the same one in the motor. I recalled the distinct lack of rope on the campsite; the culprit must have used this wire to tie her up because of that. Then again, it was also much more convenient to use the same material rather than two separate ones. I then moved on to the stump that had once been her right arm. The cut was very much unclean and messy, just like the Monobear file had reported.

            I heard footsteps next to me, and looked up to see Calise, hands knitted together. She frowned gloomily at the stump, looking almost offended by it. “I can’t believe the culprit would have done this to her,” she murmured. “How could it have possibly been necessary?”

            “I don’t know,” I said, grimacing.

            “I wonder where the arm is,” she said.

            I looked up. “Oh, it’s in the lodge. In the mask room. In a bucket.”

            While I reflected briefly that I never thought I would say that combination of sentences, Calise murmured, “Really? That seems weird. I wonder how it got there.”

            I frowned. “That’s a good question. Besides the fact that Ohanzee’s body is there, it doesn’t really seem like there’s any reason for her arm to be in the lodge while her body is somewhere else.”

            “Maybe she tried to run from the culprit.”

            “It’s possible,” I said. But something about that still didn’t seem right.

            I took a breath, and then forced myself to look at Jae’s head. Her face was hidden in the dirt, but that didn’t make it any less eerie. I noted that her mask was missing, and remembered Max pointing it out in the mask room. As I was trying to figure out how it could have gotten there, someone tapped me on the back. I turned to see Gigi.

            “Flynt,” she said, attitude cordial. “How fares the evidence hunt?”

            I shrugged. “Pretty good, I guess. It’s hard to know for sure.”

            She nodded. “Precisely the reason that I wanted to talk to you. I think you can help confirm something for me regarding this case.”

            “What is it?” I asked.

            With a flourish, she pulled out her ElectroID, flicking the screen on and turning it to face me. I was looking down at the report on Jae’s death. “Doesn’t something about the Monobear file seem strange to you?”

            I peered at it. “No stranger than normal. Although… I guess something had seemed off when I read it? I’m not really sure what I’m looking for here.”

            “All of the Monobear files so far have had one thing in common,” she said. “At the end, all of them said the same thing: ‘There are no traces of poison or other drugs.’ This time, it’s different. This time, it doesn’t say ‘other drugs.’”

            I blinked. “So the culprit drugged her? We can be sure of that?”

            She nodded. “It must be so. Why else would Monobear leave it out?”

            “Thanks for telling me,” I said.

            Unable to discover much else from the crime scene, I decided I would check out the tack store for any evidence. The most likely location for the culprit to have gotten the motor from was there, so it was my best bet to find any useful information. Inside, I saw that there was wire for sale there, as well as small, handheld motors. I couldn’t be certain, but it also looked like both objects had been tampered with recently.

            As I was heading back outside, I saw Haley walking along the sidewalk up ahead and trotted to catch up with her. There was something on my mind, and I wanted to see if she could clarify it. “Hey, Haley! Wait up.”

            She turned and waited as I walked over. “Hi,” I said. “I wanted to talk to you.”

            “What’s up?”

            “Could you take me through the order of events before the bodies were found? Like, from your point of view?”

            She sighed slightly, looking down. “Well… let’s see. When the party started, I did a headcount of everyone who came inside. There were 13 of us. About an hour into the party, I did another headcount. At that time, there were only 10. That was when we found Ohanzee’s body. After that, we split up to go alert Monobear, and there were 11 of us. Then you all found Jae’s body, so there weren’t any more missing students.”

            “Right,” I said. “Thanks. And, um… I also wanted to ask. When you told me about the missing students, you didn’t have your mask on.”

            “I didn’t?” she blinked. “Oh, you’re right. Yeah. When I did the second headcount, I was next to the food table. I took my mask off so I could put on my glasses. I’m sort of, you know, blind without them. And then I was in a bit of a panic, so I didn’t bother putting my mask on again.”

            “Okay. Thank you for telling me.”

            She narrowed her eyes, the rims of her glasses gleaming. “You suspect me, don’t you? All because I didn’t have my mask on.”

            “N-No,” I said hurriedly. “I just… I was just checking.”

            “It’s okay, Flynt,” she said with a sigh. “At least you’re being thorough.”

            Determined do get everything done before the trial started, I then hurried down to the infirmary to see what was going on with Enoch. Max had seemed more than a little concerned, and I felt obligated to follow up on the situation. I pushed open the door to see Enoch near the back of the room, sitting up on a table with his hands in his lap. Max was leaning against the counter next to him, and waved me over when I entered.

            “Hi Flynt,” he said. “Thank you for coming.”

            “It’s no big deal,” I said, then glanced at Enoch. “Hey…”

            He didn’t move. His gaze was fixated, unblinking, on the wall behind me. I looked down at his hand; it had been treated and wrapped in gauze, dyed slightly pink from the blood trying to soak through. “He’s lost all the fingers on that hand, save for his thumb,” Max said, voice low. “I tried my best to patch him up… But I’m no professional. I thought about trying to sew his fingers back on, but I more than likely would have fucked it up and left him even worse than he already was.”

            “You did the best you could,” I said. Enoch was still showing no signs of response. I knelt and murmured lamely, “Hey, Enoch? Are you alright?”

            Very slowly, as though from a great distance, he seemed to realize that I was talking to him and lowered his head to look at me. His eyes stayed wide and staring, and it took him a moment to register my face. “Hi,” he said, strangely hesitant. He looked to his lap, then back to me, and raised his hand. “I’ve lost my fingers.”

            “I know,” I said. “How are you feeling?”

            “My hand hurts, but I think I’ll be alright,” he said. He looked away, thoughtful.

            “I’m sorry this happened to you,” I tried.

            When he looked back, his expression was expression urgent, but distantly so, as though he were several miles away from me. “I don’t understand why everyone is so worried about me. Shouldn’t you be focused on Jae? She got really hurt. You need to make sure my sister is okay.”

            “E-Enoch—you-”

            “Please,” he said. “You’ve got to make sure Jae is okay. Please go make sure she’s okay.”

            My throat caught and I fell silent. “He’s gone into shock,” Max said. “And I think he’s suffering from some amnesia—or at least confusion—as a result. I’ve tried to get him out of it, but I can’t. I thought… maybe if he talked to you…”

            I looked down. “But I guess not,” Max said. “I’ll stay here with him. You should go back to investigating.”

            “Flynt?” Enoch asked. “You’re going to go check on her, right?”

            “I, um…” I looked back at him, helpless.

            His eyes were feverish and staring. “Please, help her.”

            I left before anyone could say another word.

~ ~ ~ ~

            I still had a little bit of time left before the trial, and figured that the best way I could spend it was by trying to see what was going on with Olivia. Gam had a pretty good reason to suspect her, and she had left quite abruptly from the party last night, which I was still wondering about. It was also worth questioning exactly what role she was going to play, now that she had returned. I found her in her room in the catacombs, sitting at her computer, just as she had been when I first saw this room. She flicked the screen off as I entered, getting to her feet.

            “You have internet?” I asked, mostly because I didn’t want to talk about the subject that I’d come here for.

            She hesitated, then said, “No. I have access to the data of one website. I can’t get to anything current, and I don’t have any sort of wi-fi connection.”

            “Weird,” I said. “What website?”

            “It’s an archive of sorts,” she said, glancing away. “I think the mastermind has given me access to it as a… distraction.”

            “Could I see?”

            “Do you really think now is a good time?” she murmured. “People have died.”

            “You know about that?” I asked.

            She nodded. “It’s muffled, but I can hear any announcements that Monobear makes from down here. I understand that there were… two deaths this time.”

            I lowered my gaze. “Jae and Ohanzee. We think it was the same person who did it, but there’s no way to be sure.”

            “I think it probably was,” she said. “If it were two different people, Monobear would have had to make changes in order for the trial to be fair. Letting you into a courtroom where you thought you would only have to vote for one person, when in actuality you need to vote for two, would be breaking his own rules.”

            “Why would he care about his own rules?” I asked, sighing, but said, “You have a good point. Anyway, I wanted to ask you something.”

            She studied my fitful expression for a moment, then said, “What is it?”

            “You left the party early. Just before we found Ohanzee’s body, actually. A-And I don’t want to say that I suspect you, but…”

            She looked away. “I assure you that I have nothing to do with this case, Flynt. But if it will help, I can prove it for you.”

            “Okay,” I said.

            “Let me see your ElectroID.”

            I handed it to her and she flicked it open, scanning through the entries until she came to what she was looking for. She read it for a moment, then said, “Here, look at the times of death. Ohanzee died at 8:15. How much time would you say there was between me leaving and you all finding his body?”

            “Maybe five minutes,” I said.

            “Okay. Sure, that’s enough time to complete a murder, but you saw me leave the building, didn’t you? It would have taken too much time for me to enter again when you weren’t looking and kill someone, let alone two people.”

            “But you could have killed Jae,” I said. “You would have had enough time for that, especially if you planned it ahead of time.”

            “And of course this would explain why I tried to convince you that there’s only one culprit,” she conceded. “So yes, you have evidence against me. But it hardly matters, because I won’t be attending the trial.”

            “Wh-What?” I said.

            “Think about it, Flynt,” she said. “Monobear and the mastermind know about my existence, as they were the ones who put me here. But as far as we are aware, they _don’t_ know that the rest of the students have found out about me. If that were to be revealed, it could have dire consequences.”

            “Like what?” I asked.

            Her expression was hard to read, hand drifting along her neckline absently. “Like him claiming that we’ve broken some sort of rule, and executing us. Or starting over entirely and re-wiping our memories. I can’t say for sure, but… I’m positive that he would do whatever it takes to keep the rest of you from finding out about me.”

            “That’s…” I took a breath. “Well, I’m not sure how to respond to that.”

            “Do you think you could find a moment to tell the others, as well?” she asked. “Perhaps before all of you enter the courtroom.”

            “But won’t Monobear hear that?”

            She shook her head. “The mastermind can’t be operating Monobear and watching the security cameras at the same time. You’ll be safe.”

            “How do you know that?” I asked. Her expression hardened, and she didn’t respond. I sighed. “You’re really asking a lot out of us here.”

            Her gaze softened. “I’m sorry, Flynt, but this is the way it has to be. Think of me as… an observer. I’m no longer part of Monobear’s sadistic game; instead, I’m being forced to watch it. But that doesn’t mean I can’t try to help the rest of you. The fact that you found me is going to be very important if you want to avenge your friends and get out of here.”

            Escape had never seemed further away than it did now, but Olivia’s words nevertheless lulled me. I was about to leave, but then I remembered: “Wait—if you didn’t kill them, then why did you leave the party early?”

            She opened her mouth to respond, then closed it, hesitant. Finally, she said, “Remember, I have to play the role of an observer now. Let’s just say, when we were dancing, I received a reminder of sorts that I could no longer be a part of this with the rest of you.”

            “Well… I think you might be taking that a bit too far,” I said. “But thanks anyway, I guess.”

            I’d only just exited the gift shop when I heard the speakers click on. “Alright, it’s time for us to get started!” Monobear announced. “You all know where to go, so I better see you down in the courtroom soon!”

            I was already nearby the entrance, so I was the first person to arrive. At length, the other students congregated, gathering together to wait. Max was the last person to show up, and he came alone. “Where’s Enoch?” I asked.

            He looked down. “He refused to come. We’d have to walk past where Jae died to get here, and… I think there’s a part of him that still knows what happened. He fought me every step of the way, and I couldn’t get him over here. He really isn’t in a fit state to do this kind of thing, anyway.”

            I frowned. “Will Monobear allow that?”

            “I have no idea. But it’s not like we have much choice.”

            We all descended the stairs and entered the elevator, quiet. The place seemed disturbingly empty with all of the missing students, and the idea of all of us joining them made me sick. I glanced up, and in the thick gloom I could see that there were no cameras around—if Olivia was right about what she’d said, then it wouldn’t have really mattered anyway. I turned to the others.

            “I don’t think we should mention Olivia around Monobear or any of the cameras anymore,” I murmured to the group. “I think there’s a reason that she was kept hidden from us, and if Monobear finds out that we know, it could be bad.”

            The others exchanged glances. Gam studied me, silent, and then lowered her head. “Yeah, that makes sense,” she said. “Let’s do as Flynt says, okay guys?”

            Some of the others seemed suspicious, but no one protested. Again, we were left in the silence and gloom. Despite all the empty space in the elevator without the other students around, the room still felt oppressive and close, as though the walls were trying to crush me. I thought I was going to be sick. Abruptly, the machine ground to a halt, and the doors slid open onto a courtroom of good and evil.

           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's probably some sort of equivalent exchange joke in here somewhere, but I haven't thought of it yet.


	18. AF Ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's trial it up.

School Trial Part 1

            The only change in the courtroom was the addition of dark, silken orange banners in place of the yellow ones that had been hung up last time. Monobear was tapping one paw against the armrest of his throne, waiting for us to take our places. As we did so, he sat up, agitated.

            “Hey, hey, what’s this?” he said. “We’re missing Enoch? Doesn’t he know that it’s against the school rules to not attend a trial? I’m gonna have to punish him if he doesn’t show up.”

            “He’s not well,” Max said, frowning. “The display that our culprit put on with his sister has put him into shock.”

            The bear laughed. “Aha, yeah. Shame that I missed it—it sounds like it was awesome!”

            “It wasn’t,” Calise murmured.

            “Well…” he huffed. “I guess I can give him leave because it’s a medical issue. I mean, I’ve done that before. But if this happens again, I’m not gonna be anywhere near as nice!”

            “You’ve done it before?” Haley asked.

            “Hey, be quiet, it’s trial time!” he spat. “You’re not supposed to be talking to me.”

            I took a breath. The room felt near-empty with all of these students gone, and the absence of Enoch’s agitated, determined demeanor left something to be desired. I ran my hands along the uneven wood of the podium, trying to think straight. I was relieved when someone started talking before I had to.

            “Okay,” Gigi said. “Where do we start this time? Murder weapon? Cause of death? Injuries? And, more importantly, who do we start with?”

            “I suggest we start with Ohanzee,” Buck said. “Considering he died first.”

            “We know that for sure?” Jason asked.

            I nodded. “The Monobear file included the time of death for both victims, so there’s no doubt there. He died around 8:15 last night, and Jae died around 8:30.”

            “We saw Jae die, so it’s pretty obvious that Ohanzee died first,” Max muttered. “The problem is how. And why.”

            “Whatever do you mean, ‘why’?” Gigi asked, leaning over her podium to eye him.

            “Think about it,” he said. “Jae’s murder was a complex, involved set up that would have required the culprit to plan it ahead of time. Ohanzee’s death, on the other hand, was fairly simplistic, similar in complexity to the other murders that we’ve seen on this campsite. It’s clear that, for whatever reason, the culprit did not plan Ohanzee’s murder ahead of time.”

            “Maybe they wanted us to think that there’s two culprits,” Gam suggested. “Which is still a possibility, isn’t it?”

            “Alright,” Monobear hummed. “This is nice and all, but don’t you think it’s a little tedious? This isn’t what the fans want. They want information. They want results. They want answers to all of their questions. You bastards are probably boring them to death with all of this talk about solving murders or whatever. Not like that’s the _point_ or anything. Who the hell cares about solving murders?”

            “Um,” Haley said. “I don’t really think you should-”           

            “Oh but I think I should, though,” he spat. “Ya fuckin’ traitor! What right to do have to start talking when you’re the bastard who backstabbed everyone else?”

            She looked panicked. “What? I-I didn’t do any backstabbing.”

            “Haley, babe,” he said. “Drop the act. It’s about time we revealed the goddamn mastermind all up in this goddamn bitch.”

            She looked away, making a face, then said. “Oh, alright. If you insist.”

            “Haley?” I asked, but she didn’t respond. With a wry smile, she turned to face the rest of us.

            “Ladies and gentlemen, if you would permit me your attention for but a moment,” she announced. “I have a show to put on. The show you’ve all been waiting for; the moment you’ve all been praying for. Without further ado, I present to you, the Mastermind!”

            One of the curtains in the corner of the room was drawn back. Behind it was a cardboard cutout of what appeared to be an anime character, her wild blonde hair pulled into twin pony tails with two hair clips styled after Monobear’s complexion. She was wearing a tight-fitting black school girl’s outfit, deliberately adjusted so that her cleavage stood out. Her grin was ravenous and alarming.

            Haley walked over and slung one arm over the shoulders of the cutout. “This is the love of my life,” she said. “Cardboard Junko.”

            I blinked in confusion at the two of them. Haley was gently caressing the side of Cardboard Junko’s face with one hand. “Y-You can’t be serious,” I said. “This is the mastermind? But how?”

            “Through the power of my _love_ ,” she spat back, looking almost offended.

            “This…” I sighed. “I’m sorry, but I’m really not impressed.”

            “I don’t know about that, Flynt,” Buck murmured. He actually looked frightened. “That cutout seems pretty fuckin’ serious to me. Maybe we should just give up.”

            “What?”

            “Yeah, I second that,” Gigi said, nodding sagely. “This is far too terrifying for me.”

            “Same,” Gam said.

            Calise nodded. “Mhmm.”

            “There’s no point in even bothering,” Jason said.

            “The love of my life is made from 100 percent pure despair, Flynt,” Haley said. She had now wrapped one leg around the lower half of the cutout. “You don’t want to fuck with this kind of high-grade shit. This is like if I was wearing a fucking Kamui. This is like if I had the actual, legitimate Senketsu caressing my body. 100 percent life fibers, 100 percent despair? There is literally no difference between those two things.”

            “I… I…”

            “Yeah, it’s time to give up,” Max murmured.

            Neil sighed. “I don’t even want to think about trying anymore.”

            “Wh-What?” I stammered. “But… But what about the trial? What about Jae and Ohanzee? What about Enoch? What about Max’s title? What about the Worst, Most Despair-Inducing Incident in the History of this Universe? What about _Olivia_? I still have so many unanswered questions!”

            “Seriously?” Haley said. “Fuck all of that. Just fuck it. That’s just dumb plot shit; no one _actually_ cares about getting answers to those questions. All these bitches care about is who dies and who lives. And you know what? _All_ of you are going to die. And Cardboard Jun-ketsu and I get to live happily ever after.”

            “Jun-ketsu?” I yelped. “Are you serious?”

            She somehow managed to nestle up even closer to the cutout before leaning forward and murmuring, “Hey Flynt, you wanna know a secret? Lucky Shot will _never be canon_.”

            I fell to my knees and broke down crying.

            A few minutes later, once I had recovered enough to see through my blurry tears, we all voted to give up. One by one, Haley put on each of our executions in one mass, surprisingly well-choreographed display. She left me for last. The final thing I saw before the sweet, merciful release of death was Haley aggressively making out with Cardboard Jun-ketsu.

THE END???????????????????

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy April Fool's, kids. (I didn't even try.)
> 
> You can consider this to be an alternate ending of sorts, meaning it isn't canon, in case that wasn't already obvious.
> 
> ...Although I must admit that the first ~35% of this is the actual beginning to the actual trial, meaning that it is canon. In other words, I've given you a teaser, plus a few more hints to theorize with before I post the actual trial. Consider it to be an April Fool's gift. 
> 
> This entire joke is based off of the fact that Haley kept saying she wanted the mastermind to be a cardboard cutout of Junko. It was only fair that she was the traitor in this ending, then. The Kill la Kill references are down to the fact that Haley fuckin' loves Kill la Kill. Also, Jun-ketsu is a great pun (considering it's a canon character name), and no one can convince me otherwise.


	19. 3.6 "Cervidazed"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The real, actual trial.

School Trial Part 1

            The only change in the courtroom was the addition of dark, silken orange banners in place of the yellow ones that had been hung up last time. Monobear was tapping one paw against the armrest of his throne, waiting for us to take our places. As we did so, he sat up, agitated.

            “Hey, hey, what’s this?” he said. “We’re missing Enoch? Doesn’t he know that it’s against the school rules to not attend a trial? I’m gonna have to punish him if he doesn’t show up.”

            “He’s not well,” Max said, frowning. “The display that our culprit put on with his sister has put him into shock.”

            The bear laughed. “Aha, yeah. Shame that I missed it—it sounds like it was awesome!”

            “It wasn’t,” Calise murmured.

            “Well…” he huffed. “I _guess_ I can give him leave because it’s a medical issue. I mean, I’ve done that before. But if this happens again, I’m not gonna be anywhere near as nice!”

            “You’ve done it before?” Haley asked.

            “Hey, be quiet, it’s trial time!” he spat. “You’re not supposed to be talking to me.”

            I took a breath. The room felt near-empty with all of these students gone, and the absence of Enoch’s agitated, determined demeanor left something to be desired. I ran my hands along the uneven wood of the podium, trying to think straight. I was relieved when someone started talking before I had to.

            “Okay,” Gigi said. “Where do we start this time? Murder weapon? Cause of death? Injuries? And, more importantly, _who_ do we start with?”

            “I suggest we start with Ohanzee,” Buck said. “Considering he died first.”

            “We know that for sure?” Jason asked.

            I nodded. “The Monobear file included the time of death for both victims, so there’s no doubt there. He died around 8:15 last night, and Jae died around 8:30.”

            “We _saw_ Jae die, so it’s pretty obvious that Ohanzee died first,” Max muttered. “The problem is how. And why.”

            “Whatever do you mean, ‘why’?” Gigi asked, leaning over her podium to eye him.

            “Think about it,” he said. “Jae’s murder was a complex, involved set up that would have required the culprit to plan it ahead of time. Ohanzee’s death, on the other hand, was fairly simplistic, similar in complexity to the other murders that we’ve seen on this campsite. It’s clear that, for whatever reason, the culprit did not plan Ohanzee’s murder ahead of time.”

            “Maybe they wanted us to think that there’s two culprits,” Gam suggested. “Which is still a possibility, isn’t it?”

            I hesitated, thinking of my conversation with Olivia, then said, “I don’t think it is. I mean, we had a new rule added to our ElectroIDs the moment Monobear came back. That rule stated that a culprit can only kill up to two people at once.”

            “You’re suggesting that Monobear added this rule to stop the culprit from killing again,” Neil said. “And that confirms that there is only one culprit.”

            “This is silly,” Calise said with a sigh. “Let’s just ask Monobear.”

            The bear huffed in annoyance, then said, “Again, this would be so much easier if I hadn’t taken all your memories away. _Yes_ , there’s only one culprit. Are you all happy now?”

            “Mildly,” Gigi said, frowning. “But this _does_ bring another question to mind, you know. How is it that you’ve discovered the culprit when you supposedly haven’t been monitoring us for the past three days?”

            Monobear laughed. “That’s part of the mystery, ain’t it? I can’t just give you answers like that. The amount of culprits was a reasonable thing to know about ahead of time, but I can’t give you big, conclusive evidence like that. You have to figure it out on your own!”

            She smiled. “Now we know that it’s related, at least.”

            He grimaced.

            “That raises an intriguing point though, doesn’t it?” Max asked.

            “What do you mean?” I said.

            He narrowed his eyes at me. “Do you suppose that new rule in the ElectroIDs could have something more to do with this case? I don’t mean the rule itself. I just mean the rules in general.”

            “I’m not really sure I’m following you.”

            His smile was more than a little questionable. “Don’t worry about it. It’s just a theory.”

            “A-Anyway,” Haley said. “It seems as though Ohanzee’s murder was rushed, whereas Jae’s was planned. But he died first, didn’t he?”

            “Maybe the culprit wanted Jae to die at a certain time,” Buck said. “But because Ohanzee was an accident, the situation was different.”

            Max frowned. “But why a certain time? Did it have something to do with the party?”

            I thought of Olivia again, and the coincidental time at which she’d left. What if she really _did_ have something to do with this case? She’d asked me to not mention her in front of Monobear, but that could have been part of her plan to keep us in the dark. Still, it wasn’t worth the risk. For the time being, I chose to stay silent.

            “I’m not so sure about that,” Neil said. “I mean, the setup of Jae’s death was really specific. And elaborate. I think it’s more likely that Ohanzee died first because the culprit hadn’t set up everything for Jae yet.”

            “But to do something that complex, I would think that the culprit had prepared it ahead of time,” Haley said.

            “Um… Actually, I think you’re wrong,” Calise murmured. “I mean, the place where Jae died was near the path to the lodge. If they had set it up ahead of time, we would have noticed.”

            “This is great and all,” Gam said, leaning forward. “But I’ve got a question. If Jae died outside—and we saw her, so we know she did—then how come her arm was in the lodge? And how did she get outside in the first place?”

            “Hmm…” Gigi pressed a finger to her lips. “That’s a good one, to be sure. And I’ve yet to acquire an answer.”

            “Her arm was in the lodge?” Jason said, surprised.

            “Yeah, in the mask room,” she said. “Things were real bloody. Her arm was in a bucket of water. There was also a rag in there.”

            “Oh, and there was a knife in the water,” I added. “It was buried at the bottom, as though the culprit was trying to hide it.”

            “This isn’t really helping though. I think it would be easier to figure out if we focus on Ohanzee first,” Calise said. “Knowing what happened to him might help us figure out the rest of what happened at the lodge.”

            “Fair enough,” Max said. “Let’s recall the murder scene.”

            “That elk head was the creepiest fuckin’ part of it, to be sure,” Buck muttered.

            “And _very_ intriguing,” Gigi said. “It was hanging over the entrance to the lodge, you know. It seems quite odd that it ended up all the way in the bathroom.”

            “Is there any way for the culprit to have taken it down?” Jason asked.

            Neil pressed a thoughtful finger to his lips. “Not that I can think of. There were no ladders or similar supplies in the lodge, and nothing new had been carried in.”

            “Perhaps he knocked it down on accident,” Max said.

            “Huh?” Jason blinked, but promptly nodded. “Oh, I remember. I saw Flynt looking at what you’re talking about.”

            “You mean the bloodstains near the front door?” I asked, considering it. “Yeah. They had been smudged, like someone tried to wipe them away, but it didn’t work out very well.”

            Max nodded. “Consider this: the culprit dislodged the elk head from the wall by repeatedly hitting something against it. And that something was unfortunately the victim.”

            Haley swallowed. “Which one though?”

            “I think it would have to be Ohanzee,” Gigi said. “His Monobear file says as much.”

            “What do you mean?” Neil asked.

            “The file said that there was severe damage to the back of his head,” she said.

            Calise frowned. “Wasn’t that because the culprit had put his head on one of the spikes in the mask room?”

            “Why yes,” she responded, shaking a finger, “but there is a reason that the culprit placed his head in such a specific location. It covered up the previous damage that had been made. The wounds to his head are far too large and aggressive to have been from nothing more than the spike.”

            “That seems… really violent,” Haley murmured.

            Buck huffed. “Clearly you’ve forgotten the bloody extent to which this culprit is willing to go.”

            “And there’s more evidence that supports this, isn’t there?” Calise said. “Ohanzee’s masquerade mask was crushed around his face. It’s almost as though someone had grabbed his head. That would have been necessary if they wanted to slam him into the wall like that, right?”

            “Alright, I can buy it,” Gam said.

            “Speaking of masquerade masks,” Neil said, “What about everyone else’s? I never figured out who everyone was, myself.”

            We gradually began to cycle through a list of who was wearing what. I tried to keep track, but it was a little hard with so many students to deal with. I gathered that Calise had been wearing a lacy black mask, Jason had been wearing a black one with purple lining, and Haley’s was black with a gold lining. No one refused to offer what their mask had been.

            “Now let’s see…” Max mused. “Jae’s was a fox mask, Ohanzee’s was like a colorful lion’s mane, and Enoch’s was dark gray. I believe it was a video game reference of sorts.”

            “The blinding mask, from _Fatal Frame_ , 2001,” Gigi rattled off. At our startled expressions she said, “What? I _do_ like things other than cats, you know. A very tastefully-made mask, too. Canonically accurate and all.”

            “Right then,” Gam muttered. “No one’s trying to keep their mask a secret, so that’s a good sign. But how d’you suppose it factors into the murders?”

            “Well, Jae wasn’t wearing one when we found her,” Neil offered.

            I nodded. “Yeah, it was back on its hook in the mask room, where her arm was.”

            “So did she take it off when her arm was removed?” Haley asked.

            “Who’s to say she’s the one who took it off?” Buck said. “The culprit mighta done it.”

            “But why?” Jason asked. “That seems like it would draw unnecessary attention.”

            “Hmm…” Max hummed under his breath. “Let’s think about this. The Monobear file doesn’t say that there were no traces of drugs on Jae’s body, right?”

            “Affirmative,” Gigi said with a nod. “It seems to conveniently leave that bit out.”

            “Let’s assume Jae was drugged,” he continued. “What if the drugs had to be administered orally? A mask would have gotten in the way.”

            “Where’s this theory coming from?” Gam said.

            He glanced to the side. “When I was taking care of Enoch in the infirmary, I noticed that a handful of drugs were missing from the stock. Prescription pain medication. Heavy drugs. The sort of thing that could knock people out fast.”

            “They had that kind of thing here?” Buck asked, incredulous.

            Max shrugged. “I’m sure there were plenty of legal technicalities involved back when this place was running, but now that it’s abandoned, that doesn’t really matter much. The culprit—any of us—could have taken any of the drugs there.”

            There was a pause as this information settled in. Finally, Calise murmured, “I suppose that means that there must have been some sort of fight. The culprit must have pinned her against the wall and then forced the drugs on her… God, that’s awful.”

            “And we still don’t know why,” I said, making a face. “It all seems unnecessarily violent.”

            Haley said, “Regardless, this means that the culprit took off her mask in the mask room so that they could drug her.”

            “But how did they get her in there in the first place?” Neil asked, looking puzzled. “She didn’t just follow the culprit, did she?”

            Gigi’s lips were pressed into a thin line. “We were all wearing masks. She might have thought the culprit was… well, anyone.”

            “Okay,” he sighed. “So what happened then?”

            “Well, I would guess that’s when the culprit cut her arm off,” Calise said.

            I blinked. “You really think so?”

            She nodded. “There was no blood around Jae when you guys found her tied up, right? That means that her arm must have been removed somewhere else. Since it’s where we found the arm, I think that location is the mask room.”

            “Makes sense,” Buck said. “That room is secluded, and no one had any reason to go in there. It would be the perfect place to do it.”

            “So how did they take it off?” Neil asked.

            “I think they used the knife that was in the bucket,” I said. “The Monobear file described the cuts on her arm as jagged and irregular, and that knife seemed like the sort of weapon that would fit those parameters.”

            “Hey, now that you mention it, that makes sense,” he said. “I mean, there was a knife missing from the kitchen when I went in there. I was wondering where it had gone.”

            “But why?” Haley asked. “Why was the culprit cutting it off in the first place?”

            “That’s clearly a crucial question to answer,” Max said, “But I don’t think we’re going to be able to figure it out yet. And anyway, I think we may have just found our answer as to why Ohanzee died.”

            “And that is?” Gigi asked, one eyebrow raised.

            Realizing where this was going, I hurriedly answered for him: “You think Ohanzee walked in on what the culprit was doing, right? The culprit was forced to kill him too, then.”

            Max looked briefly irked, then nodded. “Yes, that’s right. It explains the rushed appearance of his murder scene and the culprit’s sloppy job of cleaning up—they must not have had the time to do anything better.”

            “So you mean to say… Ohanzee was trying to protect her?” Calise murmured. “He saw what was going on and wanted to save Jae… But then…”

            We were all silent for a moment. I swallowed, trying not to let my thoughts get too detailed. In many ways, it was still very hard to believe that what had happened last night was even real.

            “That means there must have been some sort of fight,” Buck said at length. “Which would explain the whole banging-the-head-against-the-wall thing.”

            Haley took a deep breath. “Okay, so let’s put this together here. Sometime during the party, the culprit met up with Jae. Because they were wearing a mask, Jae didn’t know who the culprit was, and probably trusted them. The culprit took her to the mask room, took off her mask, and drugged her. While she was unconscious, they tried to cut off her arm using a knife from the kitchen, but then someone came into the room—Ohanzee. The culprit had no choice but to kill him too. They got into a fight, which eventually ended with the culprit beating Ohanzee’s head into the wall, which made the elk head over the door fall to the ground.”

            “Er—is that what killed him then?” Gam asked. “Getting slammed into the wall like that?”

            Gigi grimaced. “Actually, I’ve been thinking about that, and I think the actual killing blow was a tad worse. That is, I think the falling elk head is what killed him.”

            “That thing weighed a shit ton,” Buck said. “It definitely could have killed someone.”

            “Really?” Jason asked, eyes wide. “So the culprit kept beating his head into the wall, and then when he tried to pull away, the elk head struck him… Man, do you think the culprit planned that?”

            “I doubt it,” Gam muttered. “I mean, the whole basis of Ohanzee’s murder is that it wasn’t even supposed to happen in the first place, right? The beating would have killed him eventually, but the culprit managed to speed things up entirely on accident.”

            “Okay, great, but why did they cut off his head?” Buck asked. “And bother with dragging him into the bathroom and setting up the elk head? That would have been a shitload of work, especially considering that he’d already killed the poor guy. Why go to all the effort?”

            Max grimaced. “The same question arises with Jae’s arm. It was an unnecessary additive. It seems, for some reason, that this culprit felt obligated to go all-out.”

            “Um, question,” Calise said. “Where did the culprit cut off Ohanzee’s head?”

            “It must have been in the mask room,” I said. “There was no blood anywhere else, and more than enough to cover both Jae’s arm and his head. And anyway, that location makes the most sense. I mean, someone would have seen them if they’d done it in the foyer.”

            In fact, I reflected, _I_ probably would have been the one to see it: I had ran out into that area when Olivia left the party. Ohanzee might have already been in the bathroom by then, but it’s also possible that the culprit had cut things right down to the wire. They might, I thought bitterly, have been removing Ohanzee’s head just as I was finishing my dance.

            “Also, according to the Monobear file, the wounds on Ohanzee’s neck were identical to those on Jae’s arm,” Max added. “So the culprit must have used the same knife to do it.”

            “It still seems like a lot of unnecessary body-moving,” Buck huffed. “But alright, let’s go with it for now. So he took care of Ohanzee, then took Jae outside, right? What then?”

            “The culprit must have set up their mechanism for killing her,” Max said. “With the motor and the wire.”

            “Where did they get that stuff from, anyway?” Calise asked.

            “The tack store,” I said. “I checked, and they sold wares like that, and some of them were missing. The culprit must have prepared that stuff ahead of time so they could set it up outside.”

            Gigi nodded. “I myself wouldn’t be surprised if they’d stored all of it in the mask room before the party. It’s unlikely that anyone would have noticed.”

            “So they tied Jae up to one of the poles outside using some wire,” Neil said, “then set up the motor system that they’d made ahead of time.” He grimaced, looking stricken, then said, “And I suppose that must be around the time that she woke up.”

            “Doesn’t that seem strange though?” Jason said, frowning. “That means that she saw the culprit, right? So why didn’t she say anything before she died?”

            “Well, she _was_ drugged,” Gam muttered. “She must not have been lucid enough to think straight.”

            I frowned. “That seems a bit unlikely, too. Maybe the culprit wasn’t there at all, so she never saw them?” I looked to Haley. “Hey, could you go over the student count during the party again?”

            “Um, okay,” she said, eyes wandering upwards in thought. “At the beginning of the party, there were th—er, that is, twelve students.” I quietly noted that she was leaving Olivia out on purpose. “When I counted again, before we found Ohanzee’s body, there were only nine. Ohanzee made ten, and Jae was one of the missing students, which makes eleven.”

            “That means there was still one student missing,” I said.

            “The culprit,” Max growled.

            “After we found Ohanzee, however,” she said, “we were back up to ten. Which means that the only missing student at that point was Jae.”

            “So between the time that it took us to realize there was a problem and then find Ohanzee’s body, the culprit came back from setting up Jae’s death,” Gam said. “That supports the theory that Jae never saw them. They would have left pretty early in order to get here in time.”

            “It really doesn’t matter, though,” Gigi said with a sigh. “Even if Jae _had_ seen them, they were probably wearing their masquerade mask the whole time. They were completely anonymous. When we split up after finding Ohanzee, everyone took off their masks—if the culprit had been present while we were trying to save Jae, she wouldn’t have known who they were in any case.”

            “They probably accounted for that,” Buck grumbled, grimacing. “What an asshole.”

            “Alright, let me put this all together,” Haley said. “After Ohanzee was killed by the falling elk head, the culprit took his body to the mask room to remove his head, using the same knife they used to remove Jae’s arm. Then they pinned the head to the wall of masks in order to disguise the damage they’d done to it. After that, they took his body to the bathroom, along with the elk head, and put the elk head over him. They tried to clean up the bloodstains in the foyer, but it didn’t work out very well. Then they took Jae’s body, a bunch of wire, and a motor to the clearing outside, where they tied Jae to a wooden pole and set up the motor so that it would kill her. Jae woke up at this point, but she had no way of knowing the culprit’s identity. Then the culprit rejoined the party before all of us split up, which kept them from seeming suspicious.”

            “It seems as though we’ve got the whole picture,” Calise said.

            “But we _still_ don’t know who did it,” Buck huffed.

            “I think the best way to figure that out would be by identifying the culprit’s motive,” Gigi said.

            He made a face. “An absence of supervision for 72 hours has utterly nothing to do with what happened here. That doesn’t add up at all.”

            “I’m not so sure about that, Buck,” Max said, glancing to the side. “This motive is indeed very strange. So strange, in fact, that I don’t think Monobear would have ever come up with it. This wasn’t his doing.”

            “What do you mean?” I asked.

            “I mean that the culprit personally came up with this motive and personally requested that Monobear do it,” he said, sounding almost bored.

            “Wh-What?” Haley said.

            “Think about it,” he murmured. “What is the most important thing to Monobear?” He continued before anyone could respond: “His rules. And if he chose to stop supervising us, then his rules wouldn’t matter until he returned. He would never do that deliberately. But if a student came to him—if a student requested it, for the sake of a murder—then I’m convinced that the bear would be much more willing.”

            Neil blinked. “So you think the culprit just waltzed up to Monobear and said, ‘I want to kill someone, but I’m only gonna do it if you’re not supervising us’? That’s kind of crazy, dude.”

            “But Max _does_ have a point,” Gigi said. “Monobear’s motive did seem oddly uncharacteristic. And he’s quite… passionate about these murders. He would eagerly accept such a bargain if a student came to him like that.”

            Max shot a glance at the bear, who was glaring at us in agitation from his throne. “Well?” Max asked. “How about it?”

            He studied us for a moment, face trapped in a snarl, then let loose a long sigh. “Oh, alright, fine. You win. Yeah, the motive was the culprit’s idea. They asked me if it would be, eh, acceptable.”

            “Unbelievable,” Buck breathed. “You seriously took that big of a fuckin’ risk?”

            “Of course not!” he spat, throwing up his paws. “There were certain, um, parameters. The culprit had to follow some special rules to make sure that they didn’t wimp out on me.”

            “What do you mean by parameters?” Neil asked.

            “Eh…” he said. “They had to make the murder look a certain way, and be a certain victim, so I would know that it was their work. Wow, that was a really big hint! I should watch my mouth.”

            “He must be referring to the intricacies of Jae’s death,” Max said. “The missing arm, the beheading with the motor, the specific placement of her body… That was all part of Monobear’s ‘requirements.’”

            Calise narrowed her eyes. “But wait a minute. If that’s the case, then doesn’t that contradict what we figured out before? If Ohanzee’s death wasn’t planned, then Monobear didn’t know about it.”

            Monobear pressed a paw to his mouth, grinning mischievously. “Yeah, that’s right. I only thought I’d be getting one body out of this deal, but instead I got two! Isn’t that great? Anyway, the culprit tried to make up for it by taking off his head. I bet they would have done the arm too, but they didn’t really have much time. They had to talk to me about it when I came back, anyway. Oh no! That was another really big hint. When I was a cub, my mother always told me that my big mouth would get me into trouble someday.”

            “Wait a minute,” I said, blinking. “The culprit had to talk to you during the investigation?”

            I felt my stomach sink with sudden, bitter realization. I knew, with startling conviction, exactly who it was, and that there was no way it could have been anyone else. Every possible avenue led to this exact same conclusion. There was no escaping it.

            “I know who it was,” I said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course it would be Jae's trial wherein I have to use the word "orally."
> 
> One of the most irritating complications in this trial was that I was forced to use only one gender when describing Jae. It would have been far too confusing if I kept changing it. Ah well, such is life. 
> 
> I know this one leaves a lot of questions, but worry not. You'll get to hear the answers from the culprit's mouth.


	20. 3.7 "Wires"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> End of Chapter 3! (Finally. Phew.)

School Trial Part 2

            The whole of the courtroom turned to eye me. I had to struggle to keep my breathing even; I didn’t want to believe that I was right, but I knew I was. Not a single other student could have been the culprit, and now it was all up to me to reveal the truth. I steeled myself.

            “It was Jason.”

            His face seemed to flash through several emotions at once before finally settling on confusion. “Huh? Why me?”

            I hated the fact that I had to convince him of his own crime. It only made things more agonizing to go through. “During the investigation, you said you would guard Ohanzee’s body. But when I went to check it, the only person there was Buck. He said you’d gone to investigate Jae’s body, but I don’t think that’s what you were doing. I think you were talking with Monobear.”

            He studied me for a moment. “That’s ridiculous. You have no proof.”

            “You’re right, I don’t,” I said with a small sigh. “But there’s more. More evidence.”

            “Like what? What could you possibly have against me?”

            “When we first got access to the new area, you were looking around in the tack store, and you seemed to have learned a lot about the items there. That didn’t seem weird at the time, but when you consider what the culprit used for this murder, it starts to seem a little odd.”

            “I was trying to help out! That makes me suspicious now, does it?”

            “Someone who knew nothing about the tack store wouldn’t have been able to do this,” I rebutted. “We have to at least take that into consideration.”

            “No, you’re wrong! That’s bullshit!”

            “And what about earlier, during the trial?” I asked him, mind reeling. “You said that Ohanzee must have been hit by the falling elk head when he pulled away from the culprit. But no one ever said that he pulled away; we just said that he was getting beating into the wall. Where did you get that from, huh?”

            His jaw tightened for a moment, but he didn’t back down. “You’re just making shit up now, Flynt. I didn’t do it!”

            “Wait a minute,” Max said, his voice firm and calm. “We have more evidence against him. Finalizing evidence.”

            “What do you mean?” Haley asked.

            “Monobear said that the culprit had to follow a specific set of rules in order to ensure that he followed through,” he murmured. “And all rules are recorded in our ElectroIDs. Isn’t that right, Monobear?”

            “Er… well…” he seemed to grow frustrated, fidgeting on his throne. “Erm, yes. Yes, I suppose that probably isn’t not wrong.”

            Max swiveled dark eyes over to meet Jason’s. “Then this is simple. Show us your ElectroID. If your list of rules matches that of the rest of us, then you are innocent.”

            The energy seemed to leave him. “But… I didn’t do it, I swear…”

            “You’ve got that wrong,” I said quietly. “Well, at least for now.”

            There was a long moment of silence. Jason’s hands flexed at his sides; then he reached into one pocket and pulled out his ElectroID. “Very well,” he said, turning it on and holding it up for all of us to see. “I suppose this means game over, then?” There were normally seven school rules to be followed, but there were an extra three on Jason’s list:

  1.       You must kill Jae Brown in the next 72 hours.
  2.       Additionally, the chosen victim must have their right arm removed and their head cut off. They must die publicly.
  3.       Failure to adhere to rules 8 and 9 will result in an immediate punishment.



            “I’m lucky Monobear let me live this long,” Jason said. He sounded strangely calm. “I mean, Ohanzee wasn’t part of our deal. He wasn’t supposed to die, but he did. All things considered, I failed to follow the rules—but he let me get away with it anyway.”

            I stared at him, shocked. “You mean you did this on purpose? Setting up the motive and killing Jae?”

            “Absolutely,” he said, but then lowered his gaze. “Well, sort of. My goal for doing all this had originally been a little different.”

            “Tell us,” Max said. Something about his tone worried me.

            His eyes seemed dark. “I thought you, of all people, would have guessed by now. I’m the one who figured it out. That disk in the U-Haul? I know what that was. And it changed _everything._ But I couldn’t do much with Monobear watching. I had to get him out of the picture for a little while.” He was smiling. “Honestly, that had been my plan at first. That was it. I just wanted to do some investigating.”

            “Monobear foresaw a problem like this,” Max said. “That’s why he gave you a new set of rules.”

            Jason nodded. “Yes, that’s right. Rules to ensure that I wasn’t trying to trick him. I regretted it at first—I’d sort of talked myself into a corner, as it were—but that didn’t last long.”

            “What do you mean?” I asked, even though I could already tell what was coming next.

            “The challenge,” he said, “was fun. Unbelievably so. I didn’t really realize what murder _was_ before then. What it meant to actually do it. Now… Now I understand so much more.”

            Jason laughed abruptly, the sound so sudden in my ears that I nearly jumped. “And none of you get it! None of you understand why I did all of this in the first place. You don’t know what was on that disk, what happened to all of us, what’s going on here… Ha! _There’s so much you don’t know…_ ”

            “Sh-Shut up,” Calise managed. “This isn’t funny.”

            “Oh, but it _is_ ,” he said. His fingers twitched as he clutched the podium, compulsive. “When I first saw that disk, I only had theories. I couldn’t be sure. But once we started digging into the campsite, finding things… I knew I’d been right from the beginning. What’s going on here is more terrible than any of you could ever imagine. The sense of total hopelessness was… overwhelming. There was no reason to live anymore.

            “But the murder? That was something to throw myself into. To be totally engrossed in. Suddenly I didn’t feel so…. Empty…So… afraid…” His giggles descended into full-blown laughter.

            I thought I was going to be sick.

~ ~ ~ ~

            _“It’s a good idea,” he said. “You stop monitoring us, and I’ll be able to murder freely. It’s not going to happen otherwise.”_

_The bear studied him in silence for a long moment. He felt his heart pound harder; this was it. If his plan worked out, then he would finally be able to get some answers. It was possible that he might even be able to save everyone. The agitation that filled him would finally, finally be quelled._

_Monobear held out a paw._

_“Give me your ElectroID.”_

_He did not know why, but he suddenly felt afraid. It was a fear that would stick with him for the next 72 hours. He pulled the ID out and gave it to Monobear._

            _The sunlight draped over the whole of the campsite was almost unbearably warm, a near-insufferable blanket of heat. The weather was supposed to be spiraling into winter, but nature apparently wasn’t feeling up to it at the moment. Today wasn’t a day for normalcy. It seemed fitting, then, that today would be the day where he sold his soul to the metaphorical devil._

            _The bear handed the ElectroID back, and though his facial expressions never changed, for a moment he almost seemed chagrined. As though he were pleased, somehow. As he began to read the new set of rules, Jason felt the pit of nerves and fear in his chest grow deeper, as if his entire body were being hollowed out. He’d just wanted to do some investigating without the headmaster’s watchful eye on him—but now he knew that things would not be so easy. He was an idiot and his plan had been equally as stupid—and he still didn’t have any answers._

_“I think I make it pretty clear,” Monobear said, “That breaking those rules will result in your punishment. I mean, this is a big risk for me, y’know? So you better not mess it up!”_

_His hands shook as he put the ID back into his pocket. “You have my word.”_

_“Good.”_

_He considered telling someone of his deception. It wouldn’t have made his impending doom any easier to deal with, but at least he could have had some support. Because of course he wasn’t actually going to kill Jae: there was no point in doing so. At least, he thought, he shouldn’t have to go through his final hours alone. In fact, he was in the process of picking out who to tell first—but that was when they found out that Olivia was still alive._

_This changed everything. Not only had the basis of his plan worked, but his theory had been proven completely correct. He knew exactly what was going on here now. And he knew, without a single doubt in his mind, that all of them were doomed._

_He wanted out. No—he needed out. He would kill Jae and he would get out._

_The masquerade was like a happy coincidence amid a series of sickening truths. Not only did he have a plan for his murder, but he also had the perfect stage upon which to enact it. Half of the work was being done for him; it was just a matter of playing his part._

_He set up the motor and wire ahead of time and hid them both in the mask room. He took drugs from the infirmary and a knife from the kitchen and hid them there as well. He filled a bucket with water and got a rag to clean the blood off of himself. He sat at the top of the stairs in the lodge and waited until Jae went in so he could see which mask she chose. For his own part, he picked a black mask with crisp purple lining that reminded him of the Master Pokeballs. Pokemon had never seemed further away from him than it did in that moment, but the reference was, regardless, a strange kind of comfort. The waves of defeat that wracked him were indelible; he had failed beyond belief. And the truth behind this campsite—the truth behind the students around him—was too much to bear. He would much rather risk his luck at murder than sit there and suffer in silence._

_He considered, more than once, that this must be what despair was, and that he had fallen into it. At first this frustrated him, because it increased the magnanimity of his failure tenfold, but at length he came to enjoy it. It was far better than letting the agony within him eat him alive._

_The night of the party arrived. He found himself surprisingly calm, despite the fear in his chest; it felt as though his entire being would be based upon the success of this night. Yet he had no reason to be nervous. He was eerily confident._

_He moved through the crowd with a grace that defied him and gently placed a hand on Jae’s shoulder. “Jae,” he said aloud, forcing his voice to sound scratchier than normal, which wasn’t hard. “It’s Enoch.”_

_She turned. At his touch, she’d seemed sociable and interested enough, but hardened at the sound of his voice. Through the fox-slit eyes of her mask, he saw that the real ones were narrowed in annoyance. “What do you want?” she asked. “I’m kinda busy here, you know.”_

_Jason smiled. “I have something to show you. Follow me.”_

_“Enoch, damnit, will you just tell me what it is? I don’t want to leave the party.”_

_“No,” he said, already walking away. “You have to see. It’s really important, c’mon.”_

_He heard her huff behind him, but she followed. He kept his hands in his pockets as they walked, one wrapped around the bottle of pills in his pocket. He knew she wouldn’t question it, considering all the things the real Enoch kept in his pockets normally, but he kept his hands there just to be safe. As they approached the mask room, she sighed._

_“Is this just some stupid video game reference mask or something?” she asked. “No, wait—it’s a Touhou mask, isn’t it? You found a Touhou mask and you just had to show me.”_

_Jason turned to study her. Her scorn was great enough to have built bridges, only to instantly cleave them in half with the back of her hand. Nevertheless, he hadn’t developed his lie any further than this, so he appreciated her input. “Okay, okay, you got me. But it’s way cooler than you think, I promise. You’ve gotta see it.”_

_Her jaw clenched. “Okay, but make it quick. I was just talking with Ohanzee and kind of actually enjoying myself for once? Which is, you know, a rare experience at this fucking campsite, so I’d like to draw it out as long as I can. If you don’t mind.”_

_“Okay,” he said, and opened the door, stepping aside for her. She walked in, and he came in behind her._

_“Where is-?” Jae started, but didn’t get any farther, as he ripped her mask off with one hand and shoved a palm full of pills against her mouth with the other. She writhed, but he was right behind her, so he merely pressed himself against her and then forced her head upward, exposing her neck. He drew his hand along her jugular until he felt her swallow and then pulled away._

_She teetered forward, coughing, and then turned to face him. Her face blanched at the realization that the person standing in front of her was not Enoch Andersen. A hand drifted to her lips in muted shock. And then she lost consciousness and fell in a heap on the floor._

_It was, Jason reflected, very easy to kill. Laughably easy. His own actions would have disgusted him three days ago, but now they felt pure. They felt right. Now, it would be wrong of him to not proceed forward. And he knew this was true because every time he thought of the alternative—of sitting back and waiting for his own demise—he wanted nothing more than to rip his own aching heart out._

_He laid her out on the ground, took the knife out of its hiding place, and set to work on her arm. He had never cut through flesh before. He was, for the briefest of moments, unafraid._

_So engrossed in his work was he that he almost didn’t notice when the mask door opened. Ohanzee’s strangled gasp of horror brought him back to reality; he had seen someone talking with Jae in a colorful, lion-maned mask, and now that the person was standing in front of him, he knew without doubt that it had to be Ohanzee. Jason rose to his feet, brandishing the knife. He could see in Ohanzee’s gaze that he recognized the danger, and fully expected him to run, but to Jason’s surprise he did the exact opposite. He lowered his shoulders and charged at him with fire in his eyes._

_Jason made the near-fatal mistake of assuming that his knife would give him the upper hand—in reality, the weapon was out of his grasp and on the ground within a few seconds. He didn’t know where Ohanzee had learned to disarm someone (perhaps it was nothing more than adrenaline), but in that moment it didn’t matter. In that moment he had to survive._

_Jason assumed that Ohanzee had discarded the knife because he believed he could talk him down, but he also wasn’t feeling too confident about his assumptions at the moment, so he didn’t dare to hesitate. He grabbed Ohanzee by the shoulders and shoved him into the wall, hoping to knock him out, but the artist didn’t falter. His eyes were alight with rage. With unexpected strength, he grabbed Jason by the arm and flung him out into the hallway._

_He was relieved when there was no one else out in the foyer. Trying to buy time, he faked a panic and ran towards the entrance to the lodge, Ohanzee right on his heels. The blood was rushing in his ears. He didn’t know if his plan would work, but he had no choice. He made for the door, but at the last second he turned on his heel and reached out for Ohanzee, grabbing at his face as his momentum pushed both of them forward. He writhed, but Jason pulled him forward, regained his balance, and then slammed the back of his head into the wall._

_The door frame shuddered upon impact, and Jason was thankful that no one could hear them over the thudding music in the ballroom. Ohanzee groaned. Both frightened and awestruck by the former’s strength, Jason didn’t hesitate to pick up his head and slam it into the wall again. And then again. The masquerade mask had crumpled around his fingers. A circular stain of blood was on the wall. Again. Again. Again. Again._

_Finally, Ohanzee reached up and wrapped his hands around Jason’s arm, his grip so firm that he thought Ohanzee might snap it in half. Instead, he simply shoved him away and staggered to his feet, dazed. Jason was fully prepared to defend himself again—but then he heard a creak from overhead. He looked up. Like some demonic hailstone, the dark mass of the elk head was barreling towards them; towards Ohanzee. Jason stumbled backwards. Ohanzee expression became awash with confusion, and then the head struck the back of his skull and he crumpled to the floor._

_Jason stood there for a few moments, trying to catch his breath. Once again, he’d fucked everything up. He’d killed the wrong person, and all because of the fact that he was too stupid to lock the door. He felt ill with dismay, and wanted to crumple to the floor like Ohanzee, but he forced himself to focus. He hefted his body and carried it back to the mask room._

_Perhaps Monobear would overlook his accident if Ohanzee’s body was prepared like Jae’s—but he couldn’t make his death public, and he didn’t have enough time to spare towards perfecting the task. In a desperate rush, he retrieved the knife and dragged it through Ohanzee’s neck, through bone and flesh, until the head was separated from his body. Seeing the mass of gore on the back of his skull, he forlornly stuck one of the stakes in the wall through the wound. It was far from perfect, but it would have to suffice._

_He didn’t want to draw attention to the mask room, so he carried Ohanzee’s body and the elk head to the men’s bathroom. He set the crime scene up against the back wall, so anyone entering the room would see it immediately. Something about the dark morbidity of the elk head comforted him. He hadn’t wanted this, but at least it would come across just as garish as Jae’s death._

_After finishing up with Jae’s arm, he tried to clean up the wall using his bucket of water, but without the proper supplies, there wasn’t much he could do. And anyway, he was running out of time. He needed to set up her body now, or else risk getting caught._

_The motor and wire was light and small, so he placed it on Jae’s stomach and then hefted her up in his arms, hurrying out into the night. He made sure to close the door to the mask room as he left. There was no one around, thankfully. He abandoned the path and darted out into the bushes as soon as possible._

_He’d scouted this place out ahead of time, so it didn’t take him long to find it again. The pole in the ground stood out in the bright moonlight like a beacon. He propped her up against it and she slumped forward, blood spilling from her arm and onto her clothes. He took a section of the wire and strung her up as tight as he could manage, ensuring she wouldn’t escape._

_The motor was placed a few feet away, pressed gently into the sand. The wire had been threaded through it ahead of time, and the noose already tied, so he simply took the loop and slung it around her neck. He stepped back to study his work, making sure he hadn’t missed anything. He had a whistle in his pocket, and the original plan had been to blow it to get the attention of the others—but that wouldn’t be necessary anymore. If he’d timed it right, they would find her because of Ohanzee._

_He was about to leave until he heard rapid footsteps approaching on the path. Cursing his bad luck, he fell to the ground and hid behind Jae’s body, watching the sidewalk. The ground dipped into the clearing where they were hidden, and it was surrounded by bushes, so unless the intruder had heard or seen him, he would probably be safe. He watched as a pair of boots and the tail end of a trench coat came into view. Olivia. She was the absolute, sole reason that all of this had happened to him, and as he watched her he was fully reminded of that fact. She was out of breath and looked agitated. After pausing for a moment, she continued down the path and out of sight. He wished he could have killed her, too—but he knew that would have been an utterly pointless endeavor._

_Jae was, thankfully, still asleep, so he turned on his heel and darted out of the area, pulling off his mask as he went. He slipped back into the ballroom just in time to see Flynt run inside, eyes wide, claiming that someone had been found dead in the bathroom. He smiled to himself: his plan had worked. The first good news of the night._

_“It was an honest mistake, you know,” Jason told the bear. “Entirely Ohanzee’s fault for having walked in on me.”_

_Monobear’s paws flexed at his sides, his claws out and gleaming. “Eh… you broke the rules! I really should just kill you right now…”_

_“Th-The rules you gave me don’t contradict what I did,” he said quickly. “You said I had to kill Jae, and I did, and I followed all of the necessary parameters. You didn’t say that I couldn’t kill someone else.”_

_“That’s true…” he muttered. “And this does make things a lot more interesting. Oh, alright, I’ll let you get away with it. But that’s only because you put on such a good show! I don’t like you or anything.”_

_Jason couldn’t really tell if the bear was joking or not._

_He spent the entire investigation agitated and impatient. He did well to keep it hidden, but on the inside, he was eating himself alive. Had he covered all of his bases? Was there something that he’d overlooked? Would his run-in with Ohanzee cost him his life? The questions never seemed to end._

_On the way down into the courtroom, Flynt asked that he and the other students not talk about Olivia. He didn’t think Monobear would respond well to that. Jason could have laughed out loud—he certainly wouldn’t respond well to it, and it was the kind of move that could easily get them all killed. The game had changed now that he had all of this new information. The game was not what it had been before. And god, god, did he wish the game could be over._

_The elevator doors opened and his heart pounded in his chest, head ringing with despair._

~ ~ ~ ~

            I recounted the events of the murders more out of habit than anything else. I wanted to do everything in my power to avoid Jason’s execution. His actions had been terrible, but… I didn’t want to see anyone else die. I could hardly take it anymore.

            But you can only take these sort of things so far.

            “Well, it looks like everyone’s satisfied with that conclusion,” Monobear said. “You know what that means: it’s time to vote!”

            The result was Jason, as was expected. He smiled the whole way through, his eyes dark with a kind of morbid desperation that chilled me to my core. At length, he laughed under his breath. “You all should be thanking me, you know. Especially Max. I mean, I did all of this because of _her_ …”

            At the word “her,” Max tensed up as though he’d been struck. His fingers curled around his podium as though it was the only thing keeping him grounded. “What?” he asked.

            “This is all her fault,” he said, beaming. Joyous. Ecstatic. “Everything that’s happened here is all her fault. And you know what the best part is? I’ll be dead. I won’t have to deal with what’s coming next.”

            The “her” he was referring to must have been Olivia. I felt like I was freezing from the inside out, my core going cold and then the ice spreading throughout me; a disease, an infection. What was he talking about? What was going on? Was he trying to say that Olivia was the mastermind?

            “That’s enough out of you,” Max growled, his teeth gritted.

            “I agree!” Monobear said. “In fact, if I remember correctly—and bears have pretty good memory, you know—it’s punishment time!”

            “Finally,” Jason breathed.

            Monobear lowered his head, his eyes gleaming. “Jason Bickford has been found guilty. Commencing execution: Triple Finish.”

            Jason had already walked up to the hidden doors in the courtroom and was quietly waiting for them to open. When he did, he made to step out onto the balcony, but was instantly snatched up by a clamp and carried down into the depths below. We all ran out onto the balcony to see what would happen to him now.

            The arena beneath us was clean and empty, a single spotlight shining down on its center. Jason, released from the clamp, walked warily forwards, eyes taking in all around him. Suddenly a shelf rose up out of the ground to his right. On it were three simple red Pokeballs.

            Anyone who had played Pokemon before knew what this was: Jason had to pick his starter.

            He selected the ball in the middle first and gently pressed the button. It clicked open and smoke poured out of it with a hiss, filling the arena and briefly blinding us. When the smoke had cleared, a Monobear with a gleaming, watery blue eye was standing in the middle of the arena, his claws bared. It stepped towards Jason, snarling, and he shouted a few basic commands, trying to get the creature under control. It didn’t work. In a panic Jason grabbed another Pokeball, quickly opening it.

            Again, smoke hissed out of it and we briefly lost sight of the arena. When the view was clear, we could see a second Monobear standing behind the first, this one with a bright green eye. It looked equally as menacing and equally as determined to kill Jason. He tried to get this one under control as well, but it was to no avail.

            He grabbed the final Pokeball and, looking determined, opened it. When the steam had cleared, we saw a third and final Monobear, eye a fiery, flickering red. Water, Grass, and Fire. The three starter Pokemon elements, corrupted into Monobear versions. The first two stepped back, and for a moment it looked like they were no longer interested in attacking Jason—but then all three stood side by side, taking formation.

            Jason’s expression fell. “Oh, ‘Triple Finish,’” I heard him say. “I get it.”

            Then all three Monobears opened their mouths, and from each spewed a solid, blinding beam of their respective elements, aimed right at Jason. I heard him scream once, and then his voice was drowned out by the hissing, crackling, growling sounds that were consuming him. I smelt burnt flesh and covered my mouth with one hand. And then the beams faded and the “Pokemon” lowered their heads and I got one look at Jason’s charred, broken body—then the arena went dark.

~ ~ ~ ~

            We walked back to the campsite in silence. For once, the whole of us were more confused than anything else. Jason seemed to have discovered something that the rest of us could not put together, and it was all down to that scratched-up disk in the U-Haul. But now I wasn’t so sure if I _wanted_ to know what he’d found. It seemed to have made him go insane, after all.

            It seemed to have made him sink into despair, even.

            Weird.

            The plan was to go straight to bed, but we were soon distracted by the glow of lantern light coming from the training room. It lit up the windows and filled me with a strange sense of dread.

            “Did someone leave their lantern in there?” Calise asked.

            “I wouldn’t think so,” Gigi said.

            Max’s lips were pressed into a thin line. “No,” he said. “It must be Enoch. He’s the only one who should be out here.”

            We walked up to the door in silence. After a brief moment of hesitation, I opened it to see Enoch standing in front of a training dummy, a real and very sharp short sword brandished in his left hand, the bandaged right one loose at his side. He was taking aggressive and unpracticed swings at the dummy, yelling with every stroke, the sword spilling open the soft stuffed guts of his target. He didn’t even seem to notice us.

            “Enoch!” I yelled after a moment.

            He turned to face me, holding the sword in front of him in a guarded stance, looking ready to lunge at any second. When he saw those assembled, he studied us for a quick moment. “You’ve discovered the culprit, then? Good. Now leave me alone, I’m busy.”

            _He didn’t even bother to ask who it was,_ I thought, a little miffed. “Are you feeling okay?”

            “Never better,” he said. “I’m going to avenge my sister.”

            “We… We already discovered the culprit,” I said. “They’re gone now.”

            “I’m not talking about that,” he said shortly, taking up a fighting stance again.

            I’d never seen him like this before, and it frightened me. I decided to try another approach. “What are you doing?”

            He took a few more hacks at the dummy. “Training, of course. I have an important quest to complete.”

            “What is it?” I asked.

            He straightened up, blade lowered at his side. He was covered in sweat and shaking all over, but something in his expression displayed determination and even excitement. It occurred to me that he shouldn’t be doing something like this after receiving such a brutal injury. He should still be in a state of shock, all things considered.

            “I’m going to kill the mastermind,” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Touhou Project reference was actually a pretty dark one, all things considered. You see, Enoch has a bit of an obsession with Touhou, and now it's partially responsible for his sister's death.
> 
> "Triple Finish" is of course the name of the Pokemon Trainer's final smash in SSBB. I thought it was a fitting reference, all things considered.
> 
> Now for a quick anecdote about this chapter:  
> I had a lot of doubts and cautions about making one of my characters go more or less insane, and I hesitated for a long time about exactly how far I was going to take it with Jason. I personally think it turned out really well. What worries me more, now, is the character relationships that are implied during the climax inference--namely, Ohanzee's relationship with Jae and Jae's relationship with Enoch.  
> The former was pretty spontaneous, but the latter has some roots. I've known Jae and Enoch for a long time now, and I'd like to say that I've gotten to know their relationship pretty well. It is not all sunshine and rainbows. It's far from it, for the most part. It felt... right to have a taste of that character interaction. There's a reason the two of them avoided each other so much throughout the fic.


	21. 4.1 "Even Jokes Have a Meaning"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I bet you all thought I was dead.
> 
> Again.

CHAPTER FOUR: THE CONFLAGRATION

(Ab)normal Days Part 1

            The next morning, we met in the clearing and waited for Monobear to make his appearance. There was little discussion. It seemed, after the two violent deaths and Jason’s display of insanity, that everyone was at a loss for words. Enoch had fiercely dismissed us from the training room last night, the look of determination painting his face just as frightening as the empty gaze that had cloaked Jason’s. It was, in many ways, an exact mirror.

            When Monobear arrived, he led us down the west path, demeanor amicable. His very presence made me tense and ill, and my head began to ache. I just wanted him to go away. The day had only just begun, and already I felt exhausted beyond belief. At the end of the path he nudged the new gate open, stepping back and gesturing at us to go through.

            Beyond the gate, the path dipped down a steep hill, nearby trees obscuring the landscape beneath us. I walked up the crest and looked down: beneath me, the line of trees opened up and stretched out, giving way to pale sand, which in turn gave way to the lapping shores of a huge, expansive lake. It extended far out towards the horizon, large and circular and utterly shocking. The other students gathered behind me, staring down towards the crystalline water.

            “You all look pretty impressed!” Monobear called, and then laughed. “I’ll leave you to explore, then. But, eh, gather in the cafeteria when you’re done. I have an important announcement to make!”

            Important announcements were never good when they involved Monobear, and so it gave his words an unpleasant, foreboding edge. Still, what choice did we have? The nine of us descended the path towards the lake, gradually splitting up as we began to look around.

            For my own part, I noticed and began to follow a path along the side of the lake, concrete black and cracked with age. It led me to the right, towards a collection of buildings and other structures next to the lake. The first was a long, pale wooden dock that extended out into the water, a mismatched collection of rowboats and other vessels tied to its posts. There was a gate at the front, but the chain across it had long since rusted away. The gate hung slightly ajar, and I could see Gam and Calise at the far end of the dock, talking.

            The creaking, strained wood made me more than a little nervous, but it held up without any problems as I approached the two of them. “Hi guys.”

            Gam turned her head halfway backwards to eye me. “Oh, hey Flynt. How goes the exploration?”

            “Pretty good, I guess,” I said. “It hasn’t been all that long.”

            “This lake is… nice, I think,” Calise said, staring out into the waters. She had her hands pressed together in front of her, posture strangely refined. She’d long since abandoned her Aradia cosplay, and was currently sporting a small yellow sundress that flared just above her knees, shoulders covered by a see-through orange wrap that clung to her skin like gossamer’s silk. I didn’t put much stock in it, however. She had a habit of randomly changing her outfit, and each one was completely different than the last, as though she couldn’t settle on one fashion style that suited her. I was used to it by now.

            Gam nodded sagely. “Yeah, this lake is pretty cool. Which is, you know, a big fuckin’ surprise, considering all the shit we’ve gone through lately. Murders? Betrayals? Insanity? My own fuckin’ idiocy? Yeah, I can handle all of that shit. But a nice, _peaceful_ lake? Witchcraft, I say!”

            I managed a small smile. “Sounds to me like you’ve forgotten what it’s like to be happy.”

            To my dismay, her wry grin rapidly diminished. “Yeah,” she said. “I think I have.”

            Calise had been watching this in a measured silence, but at that moment she chose to speak. “This dock seems like it must have been pretty nice back when it was in use. The gate over there was probably where a worker would lend out boats to tourists, or whomever.”

            “Hmm,” I said, studying the entrance. “Maybe we’ll be able to use the boats? I mean, there’s no one here now. It’s sort of free game.”

            She nodded. “I was thinking the same thing. This could be really fun!”

            Gam’s expression was distant. “Hopefully you’re right.”

            “Well, I think this is a good sign,” Calise said, unperturbed. “I think… I think that maybe things are looking up. Though, you know, it could be too early to be sure.”

            I remembered Monobear’s mystifying self-assuredness. The wild, hungry look in Enoch’s eyes. The small smile that played on Jason’s lips. The smell of blood coating my mouth as Jae’s life spilled away. The ring of red across Ohanzee’s chest, like the long shadow of a halo. The hiccupping laughter between Dani’s sobs. The loud smack as Pam’s fist hit skin, and then the echo of the same sound in return, but on her skull. The empty, hollow, desperate rage that spilled from Ryan. The brief glimmer of something alien in Olivia’s eyes, the slight twitches of hesitation in her every move, the pained, haunted glances that she thought I didn’t see.

            “I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe.”

            I soon left them, wandering off of the concrete path and further from the lake. In the distance, near the fringes of the forest, I could see a low, faded red building with large, open barn doors. I approached it in silence, peering around the corner to look at rows upon rows of wide, empty stalls. The air smelled of sawdust and wet dirt. Specks of dust floated in the air, illuminated by the slant shards of light coming in through the doors on either side of the stables. Besides this, there were no lights to be seen.

            About halfway through the stables I spotted Max leaning against the wall between two stalls, expression placid. He stirred slightly as I approached. “Hello, Flynt. This is quite the interesting place we have here, yes?”

            “They’re stables, right?” I asked, glancing around, then shrugged. “Yeah, I guess it’s pretty interesting. There aren’t any horses though.”

            “I wouldn’t think so,” he said. “With the state of things around the entire campsite, it clearly hasn’t been maintained for some time. Without humans to care for them, any horses would have escaped or otherwise died by now.”

            “You’re right,” I said. “Kind of sad.”

            His eyes wandered away. “I suppose. But with death comes life, and all that. And here we are. Alive, for the most part. And from our deaths will come new life, and so on and so on, until the great grand heat death of the universe.”

            His tone was sardonic, but there was something sad about the way he spoke that I couldn’t quite place. “What’s on your mind?” I asked.

            “A better way to put it would be _who_ ,” he said forcibly, and then leaned back and closed his eyes, making it quite clear that he wasn’t interested in doing any more talking. It was pretty obvious that he was referring to Olivia, but I couldn’t think of anything to say. Too off-put to try and press him, I quietly slunk down towards the opposite end of the stables.

            I almost didn’t see Gigi, as she was inside one of the horse stalls, crouching, the blank eyes of her goggles focused on the ground. I gently pulled open the stall door, poking my head inside. “What are you looking at?” I asked.

            She glanced up. “Ah! Hello. Just studying the dirt, I suppose. Dirt can be very interesting, you know.”

            “Really?” I said.

            She nodded. “But I don’t know anything about that. I’m a cat expert, not a biologist. You see?”

            “I-If you don’t know anything, then why are you studying it?” I murmured, half-meaning for it to be rhetoric. She smiled.

            “Just because you don’t know what something is doesn’t mean you should disregard it, Flynt. Is that how you’ve been spending your time here, hmm? Ignoring the things that you don’t understand? Why, in that case, it’s no wonder that we can’t get anything done!”

            “I… I didn’t…” I trailed off, somewhat offended.

            She giggled in response, fingers playing at her lips. “I’m only toying with you, of course. But, ah… Perhaps it’s right of you to be so serious about it. Even jokes have a meaning, you know. Sometimes they’re the _only_ things that have meaning.”

            I wasn’t sure whether I should translate her ramblings as psychopathic babbles or cleverly veiled warnings, but either way I was at a loss for words. At length, I sighed and offered her a light smile. “Well, good luck with your exploring, anyway.”

            “I appreciate the gesture,” she hummed, already having looked away.

            Having returned to the lake, I followed the path until it suddenly cut off, replaced by a long strip of sleet gray concrete that dipped down into the water. I’d seen these before: it was a loading ramp for boats. Around it were long, thin strips of sand that were level with the edge of the water, like mock beaches. Neil was sitting at the bottom of the ramp, shoes off and feet in the water. I walked down to him.

            “How’s it going?”

            He glanced up. “Water’s cold. Nice though, once you get used to it. This place is pretty.”

            “People keep saying so,” I said.

            “You disagree?” he asked.

            “No. Just… I don’t know. I feel like it would be too easy to start relaxing in a place like this. And when we start relaxing…”

            “Trouble strikes,” Neil said with a nod. “That seems to be a real trend, doesn’t it? There aren’t that many of us left now.”

            I was going to respond, but then he half-turned to eye me and spoke again. “I just want you to know, I’m not gonna stand for any more murders. I’ll protect every single one of the students here. I’m sick of all this… this bloodshed. Of being powerless.”

            “Me too,” I said, and I wasn’t lying.

            Further up the “beach,” perched on a dark rock with her eyes narrowed, was Haley. She was squinting at something on the other side of the lake, lips pursed in a troubled frown. I made sure my approach was audible, but she didn’t bother to raise her head. “Hey,” I said finally. “What are you looking at?”

            She shot me a brief glance, then turned her critical gaze back across the waters. “Come here,” she said.

            I hesitated a brief moment, then stepped up onto the rock. It wasn’t particularly large of a perch, and I found myself pressed up behind Haley, crouching slightly to meet her line of sight. She raised her arm, straight as… well, as an _arrow,_ and pointed towards the line of trees on the far shore. Beyond it, just barely visible against the glaring sunlight, was the top of a building.

            “What do you think it is?” she asked, eyeing me.

            “I don’t know,” I said. “It looks big. Maybe a mansion of some sort?”

            She nodded. “That’s what I was thinking.”

            Remembering the boat dock, I said. “Maybe we should sail across to check it out. It looks interesting.”

            At this, she grimaced, then nodded at the opposite side of the lake. “Look at the shoreline. I don’t think that’s going to be an option.”

            I glanced down and immediately saw what she was talking about. Along the opposite shore, right up against the edge of the waters, was the electric fence. It spanned the whole perimeter of the other end of the lake, effectively keeping us from investigating beyond it. There would be no chance for us to visit this so-called mansion.

            “Damn,” I said.

            “Maybe it means something,” she said. “Maybe there’s a reason Monobear wants to keep us away from that building.”

            “There could be other people,” I said. “They could help us.”

            She hesitated briefly, then shook her head. “I don’t think so. I mean, there could be other people, but I don’t think they’ll be able to help us.”

            “What do you mean?” I asked.

            “Well…” she sighed, looking down. “Say we lit a flare or bonfire or something, to get their attention. They would see us, maybe even come down to the shore. But they wouldn’t be able to get past the electric fence, and if we tried to approach them on a boat to talk, Monobear probably wouldn’t allow it. And anyway, wouldn’t they know if there was a fence constructed next to their home? No, if there’s people there, it’s likely that Monobear has control of them, too.”

            Now that was an unpleasant thought. Even beyond the confines of this fence, it was possible for the mastermind to control others. I made a face. “Well, let’s hope it’s abandoned then. That sounds like the best outcome to me.”

            She nodded, silent, and I hopped off the rock and back onto the path.

            The final building in the area was very small, sitting several yards up the hill from the lake. It appeared to be a store of some sort, though I couldn’t be certain until I went inside. As I did so, I found that my suspicions were confirmed. It looked like a place for renting or buying supplies, most of which was geared towards boating and fishing. I didn’t get much of a chance to inspect the wares, however—my attention was immediately captured by the fight unfolding in front of me.

            “—you kidding me?” Buck snarled from where he leaned on a nearby counter, expression challenging. “You really think you can just waltz into wherever-the-fuck—assuming you can even find it—and murder the mastermind? That’s bullshit!”

            Enoch was standing a few feet in front of him, closer to the entrance. Buck had shot me a passive glance when I entered, but Enoch didn’t seem to be aware of my presence. I noticed that the shortsword I’d seen him wielding last night was sheathed and clipped to one of the belt loops on his pants. “Yeah, actually. I _know_ I can. It’s just a matter of finding the hideout. Then the mastermind is as good as dead.”

            “And how the fuck are you gonna do that?” he growled.

            He crossed his arms, tense. “I don’t know for sure yet, but I’m starting with that disc. The one that made Jason get all… crazy. I bet if I can figure out what he did, I’ll be able to find the mastermind.”

            Buck was quiet for a long moment, and then scoffed. “Yeah, I bet you’ll just end up going fucking insane the way he did. And then murder someone. I bet you’re playing right into Monobear’s plans and you’re too fuckin’ upset to notice.”

            “What’s that supposed to mean?” he said.

            “Oh, I’ve been there,” he responded, tone dark. “I’ve been right where you are. Your sister’s dead, you were too mentally fucked up to avenge her, and now you’re fuckin’ alone. You ain’t thinking straight. In fact, you’re not thinking at all.”

            “Shut up,” Enoch snapped. “I’m nothing like you. I’ve done nothing but good since we got here, but you? You’re _responsible_ for Dani’s death. Everything that happened to her is because of you.”

            “Fucking—” Buck stood up from the counter. “At least I changed. At least I learned. You’re just a stubborn asshole who’s gonna get himself fucking killed over some stupid hero complex. You don’t even know how to use that goddamn sword.”

            “Well I’d appreciate some help!” he all but screamed, his hands clenched into fists at his side. “So what if you’re right? Are you and the others just going to sit and watch while I _fucking die?_ Is that the kind of respect I get?”

            Buck opened his mouth to respond, but Enoch wasn’t done. “You fucked everything up! You got two people murdered and yet everyone happily accepted your apologies and supported you. But what do I get? Fucking _ignored?_ Abandoned? I try to do something good, something that can actually help, and no one gives a single _shit!_ ”

            I expected more yelling in response, but to my surprise Buck’s expression softened. “Listen, man… I didn’t—that’s not what I meant, okay? This plan of yours is…. A nice idea, but it’s gonna get you fucking killed. That’s why no one’s helping you. We don’t want to help you _die._ ”

            Enoch hesitated, chest heaving. I saw one hand—the undamaged one—hover near the hilt of his shortsword, but Buck’s eyes flicked upwards again and this time he noticed. He turned and spotted me at the entrance. His hands fell at his sides. His expression deteriorated into one of exhaustion, defeat. He was already out the door before I could think of something to say.

            Buck made a face. “Sorry about that.”

            “I, um…” I struggled to gather my thoughts. “I thought you handled it pretty well, actually.”

            “Really?” he said. “Well, that makes one of us. I just don’t understand that kid, you know? He’s all over the place. He needs help but he won’t accept any.”

            I thought of how Buck had been before Dani’s death and nodded. “I know what you mean.”

            “Anyway…” he gestured around us. “Another tack store. Though this one was just for loaning fishing equipment and nets and shit, I think. It was just rentals. But no one’s around anymore, so I guess we can just take what we want.”

            “Yeah, if we plan on going fishing,” I muttered.

            “Eh…” he shrugged. “Maybe one of us assholes plans on sinking a hook through someone’s neck. You never know.”

            “Th-That’s a cynical way of looking at things,” I said.

            He eyed me. “After what happened with Jason, I’m not so sure anymore.”

~ ~ ~ ~

            After I had finished exploring I returned to the cafeteria, just as Monobear had instructed. I wanted to go visit Olivia—I hadn’t seen her since before Jason’s trial, and I was instinctively worried—but I was concerned that heading to the gift shop would seem too suspicious. We’d been told to go to the cafeteria, so if we went anywhere else, it was likely that Monobear would pay close attention. Once everyone had arrived, Monobear made his appearance, his grin wider than usual.

            “Hi, everyone!” he said. “Did you enjoy exploring the lake?”

            “Um, yes,” Calise said. “But can you just tell us what you wanted to say? I don’t want to wait around.”

            “Same here,” Buck muttered.

            The bear sighed. “Well at least you’re eager. All right, here’s the big announcement: I’ve got another motive for you!”

            This was met with some disappointed sighs and even a few groans. “Great,” Haley muttered.

            “I know, right?” he said. “This one’s really good, too. You ready to hear it? Okay! The motive comes in the form of a new rule that I’ve added to your ElectroIDs. And that rule says that no one is allowed to sleep!”

            “What?” I said, startled.

            “You heard me,” he said. “Sleeping is now against the rules. Take a single wink, just one second of shut-eye, and you’ll be punished! And by punished, I do in fact mean killed. I can’t have anyone breaking the rules, after all!”

            “That seems a tad… extreme,” Gigi murmured. Enoch was sitting nearby her, good hand digging into the cafeteria table, expression twisted and unreadable.

            “Upupupu!” the bear laughed in response. “I wonder how long you all will last. Probably only a few days. I wonder if someone will kill. Or will I have to pick you all off, one by one? Upupu, this is going to be great!”

            He left before anyone could get another word in. I felt my gorge rise with fear. As a whole, we might be able to last a few days—if we’re particularly lucky, maybe a week. But that would be extremely impressive, and it wasn’t like any of us were Super High School Level Insomniacs. No… We were in trouble. Big trouble. I could see it painted on the faces of the students around me, carved into the knot of fear that ate at my heart. Monobear had truly given us a deadly motive—there was no way out. We were doomed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday to my good friend Mads, who is in the group, and who's name you will certainly see again.
> 
> The stables were Laura's idea. I would say "Thank you, Laura," but she literally insisted on it, so she's probably more happy than I am.


	22. 4.2 "Assassin's Plead"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Free time events and a good fistful of plot.

  
(Ab)normal Days Part 2

            Sunlight pricked at the edge of the horizon, then swelled over the top like blood from a fingertip. The light bored through my windows, hot white and blinding. I’d stayed up and watched the sunrise before, of course, but somehow this seemed different. Somehow this seemed special.

            I was sitting on my bed with my legs tucked beneath me, pins and needles prickling along them. I hadn’t moved for the past five hours. I was in absolute agony, but the strategy was effective; the position was too stiff for me to fall asleep in, but lax enough (at least for my upper half) that I could be in a state of rest. It had taken a great deal of willpower, however. I wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to walk.

            Last night, after Monobear left, there had been sparse discussion about what to do next. The idea of spending nights together was heavily disputed, but the ultimate conclusion was that it was a bad idea. Even with everyone staying up, there was too much of a threat of murder. All of us agreed that, despite our current situation, we would strive to avoid more killing.

            I assumed it was about six in the morning—an hour before Monobear’s announcement—but I got up anyway. Sure enough, my legs nearly gave out on me, but with a little bit of hobbling, I managed to make it to the door. The air outside was crisp and scented with morning dew. Originally my plan had been to head into the clearing, but at the sight of an approaching figure, I tipped my ankles back and leaned against the cabin to watch them walk up.

            It was Gam, her hat askew and twigs clinging to her hair. “Hey. Good to see that someone else finally got up.”

            “Where’ve you been?” I asked.

            “I’ve been out all night,” she said, shrugging stiffly. “Too worried ‘bout falling asleep. ‘S dark out here at night. Lonely.”

            “I was referring to the twigs, actually,” I said, gesturing at her hair.

            She glanced up, pulled one free, and held it aloft, twisting it between two fingers. “Huh, yeah. Forgot about that. I went and climbed the tallest tree I could find. It’s over there,” she added, pointing to a tall, imposing tree not too far away. It was dark and off-colored in the murky post-dawn. “I figure you could see the whole campsite from up there.”

            My eyes widened. “Could you see outside of it?”

            “Well, no,” she said slowly. “It _was_ the middle of the night.”

            “Good point,” I murmured.

            “And I doubt I’d find much of anything if I went up there now,” she said. “Too many trees an’ shit in the way.”

            I sighed. “Still, it was worth a try, I guess.”

            “Right-o. Well, c’mon, let’s go to the cafeteria.”

            We took our time walking down to the clearing, watching in silence as the pale gray of dawn gradually spread into a watery yellow. I tossed a few logs into the firepit when we reached it, sending sparks high into the air. Gam watched me in silence, then said, “What do you think of this motive?”

            “It’s terrible,” I said, blunt. “What else is there to say?”

            She glanced to the side. “I think it’s another strategy of Monobear’s,” she said. “To get us distrustful of each other.”

            “Hasn’t he managed that already?” I asked.

            “I ‘spose,” she mumbled. “But I don’t think it’s working the way he wants it to. I think we’ve been managing too well for his liking. I mean, the whole traitor thing didn’t do shit, cause I just told you immediately and left it at that. And has anything big or tragic or suspicious happened to put us on edge about it since then? Abso-fuckin’-lutely no. So he’s failing, as far as he’s concerned.”

            I grit my teeth. “What’s strange to me is that he hasn’t made the traitor do anything yet. I mean, wouldn’t that make the most sense? It would stir the two of us up, as well as causing other unrelated troubles at the same time.”

            She was quiet for a moment, frowning. “Good point. Maybe he’s not doing that because he figured that we’d be on to him? But that doesn’t really make sense, does it?”

            “No,” I said. “It doesn’t.”

            “And we’re still no closer to getting any answers,” she said with a sigh. “Well, whatever. Keep your eye out, as usual.”

            “Oh, wait, Gam,” I said quickly. She turned to eye me. Shifting to the side so that my face was out of the nearby camera’s view, I murmured, “What about-?” and then mouthed a silent _Olivia._

            She blinked, as though surprised. “Oh, don’t worry about that. They’re off the suspect list.”

            I stepped back, startled by her almost indifferent response. Gam had been very concerned about Olivia earlier—but now she was suddenly considering the girl innocent? The unexpected change filled my chest with a gnawing, aching pit of worry.

~ ~ ~ ~

            Breakfast was uneventful. No one seemed _too_ tired yet, but that was to be expected—there was no doubt in my mind that everyone here had pulled an all-nighter at least once in their lives. I could only think about the fact that things would go downhill from here, however. There was no escaping it.

            Graced with some free time, I wandered about near the lodge, feeling restless. I was surprised when I saw Haley lurking outside of the training area, expression brooding. I walked over.

            “Hey,” I said. “What’s wrong?”

            She blinked. “Huh? Oh, nothing really. Just… thinking. Hey, do you want to do some training?”

            “I don’t really know how to shoot,” I said.

            “That’s fine. I can teach you. Come on.”

            I spent some time with Haley, learning the correct stance to take before shooting and a bit of the technique on how to aim. She made a pretty good teacher. I enjoyed myself and felt like we got a little closer. Afterwards we took a seat on one of the benches near the targets, nursing cramped hands. I studied her tense, absent movements as she ran one hand along the muscles of the other, stretching each finger in turn. She looked up abruptly. “Something wrong?”

            “N-No, sorry, I was just…” I trailed off.

            “It’s fine,” she said, giving me something of a bemused expression. “I was just wondering. Because you looked thoughtful.”

            I swallowed and ran a hand along the back of my neck. “I was just thinking, you know, you’re so good at archery, and you’re really into it and stuff… It’s kind of impressive.”

            Her derision was obvious. “Please. You were saying that last time we talked, too. Just stop it.”

            “Sorry,” I said. “I just… sorry.”

            “Let’s talk about something else.” Her eyes wandered around the room. “Like you, I guess. What do you like?”

            I felt like reminding her that I didn’t really have a talent to work off of, but instead I said, “Uh, I don’t know. I’m pretty normal, I guess. I like, um… video games? Some TV shows, I guess. Er… there really isn’t anything special to say… Just the usual. Parents, siblings, pet dog…”

            “A dog?” she seemed to brighten. “What’s its name? Breed?”

            “Er…” I blinked. “Ophelia. You know, after the Shakespeare character. She’s a Dalmatian. Really nice dog.”

            “How long have you had her?”

            “A long time now… she’s almost nine, I think. She’s a really great dog.”

            Haley’s face had lit up. “Mine is named Max. Weird coincidence, right? He’s a Yorkie with golden fur, not nearly as old as yours. He bites at your ankles a lot which is really a pain to deal with but he’s also a total sweetheart and really nice. I wish you could meet him. I’ve always wanted a snake, you know, or a cat, but my parents don’t really like either of those, so we’ve only had dogs. But I like dogs too, don’t get me wrong. They’re fantastic.”

            “Er—I um, I used to own a snake,” I said. I was taken aback by her unbidden excitement.

            “You _did?_ Tell me about it!”

            “It was a really nice snake. A boa constrictor. It would wrap around my neck and stuff but it never hurt me.”

            “Really?” she smiled. “That’s so cool. I wish I could own a snake, they sound awesome.”

            I couldn’t help but grin. “Well you certainly seem interested.”

            She seemed to catch herself, because she blinked rapidly a couple times and then looked away. “I, uh… Animals are… important. That’s all.”

            I brought a hand to my lips. “Really? That’s all? You’re just so interested for once because animals are ‘important?’ Somehow I don’t believe you.”

            She scoffed at me. “Alright, alright, you win. I like animals. A lot. Is that such a freakin’ crime?”

            “No,” I said. “It just seemed unexpected, coming from you.”

            “What do you mean by that?” she asked, frowning.

            “Well, it’s just…” I hesitated briefly. “You always act so cool about everything. Like you never have a reason to get excited or emotional. It’s nice to see that there’s another side of you.”

            “Oh please,” Haley said, getting up abruptly. “The ‘tough girl with a soft side’ trope is so overdone that it’s almost not even worth mentioning by name. Please don’t try to glorify _that_ side of me now.”

            She was off before I could stop her. I watched her go in silence, considering what she’d said. It seemed to me like there were a _lot_ more sides to her than the one that she liked to show in public. This animal thing was merely one part of a larger whole. I couldn’t help but wonder what else I might find out if I chose to talk with her again.

~ ~ ~ ~

            Later that afternoon, I found Neil near the lake, kicking a soccer ball around. I walked over, curious. He noticed me almost immediately, tapping the ball with the bottom of his foot to halt its progress. “Hey Flynt,” he said. “Come scrimmage with me.”

            He promptly kicked the ball my way, and it almost rolled past me before I managed to stop it with one toe. “Er—where did you get the ball from?”

            “Storage shed over there,” he said, thumbing a finger at the rental shop. I nodded, impressed. “Now come on, kick it back!” he said.

            I played some soccer with Neil for a while. He was fast and energetic, making it infuriatingly hard to keep up, but he also gave me some pretty good pointers and made sure we were both having fun. I was enjoying myself by the end of the game, and felt like we got a little closer. Afterwards, we sat at the front of the rental shop, staring out towards the water.

            I spent a few moments pondering on what to say before settling on, “You’re pretty good at soccer.”

            He shrugged, benign. “It’s just footwork. Footwork and balance. If you can manage those two, then the rest of the sport is a cinch. It’s just like that with other sports, really. As long as you know the right techniques, you can do anything.”

            “You said as much when we first met,” I recalled, studying him.

            “Don’t sound so disappointed about it!” he said.

            “No, sorry, that’s not what I meant,” I said quickly. “What I mean to say is… You make it sound like you’re bored. Like you don’t really care about sports that much.”

            He almost immediately put his hands up. “Oh, no… Woah, sorry if I’m coming off that way. It’s just… once you get used to the way these sports work, it’s really easy to fall into a rhythm. So I might sound really casual about it, but I’m not. I love sports, honestly. My dad got me into it, you know.”

            “Really?” I said.

            He nodded. “Yeah, he’s a really active guy. He was always pushing me to participate wherever I could, to be a part of everything. This ring I wear? It’s his graduation ring. He’s the reason that I got into so many different sports. And I enjoy all of them.”

            I smiled and said, “It almost sounds like you should have been called Super High School Level Sports Master, or something.”

            At this he grew somewhat somber. “I appreciate it, but… nah. Rugby is really my thing. It’s special to me in a way that other sports aren’t.”

            “Mind explaining?” I asked.

            “Well, I found rugby on my own. My dad totally supported it, of course. It was something I really enjoyed doing. And then… I met this girl. Another rugby player.”

            “Oh?” I said.

            He nodded. “Her name is Evelyn. We played rugby together for a while, but then she got an injury and couldn’t play anymore. She was really broken up about it, and… well, so was I. So I decided that I would dedicate myself to the sport—not just for my dad anymore, but for her, too. That’s what makes rugby so special.”

            “That’s… really cool of you,” I said.

            Neil rubbed at the back of his neck, tensing at the praise. “Thanks, I guess. But I don’t really see it that way. I just think it’s the right thing to do, you know? She’s really important to me, just like my dad… they both deserve something like that in return.”

            Remembering his passionate exclamation that he would not allow another murder to happen, I sighed. “I suppose the same thing applies to this mutual killing?”

            He nodded. “No one’s going to die on my watch.”

            “But it’s not the same,” I said, frowning. “You don’t know us. Not the way you know your dad or Evelyn.”

            This made him fall unexpectedly silent. He looked down, expression morose and fingers crossed together, before finally saying, “But what if all that missing memory stuff is true? If it is, then I _do_ know you guys. Maybe even better than I know the two of them.

            “And… that feels right to me, somehow. When I think about you guys, I… I know you guys.”

            I didn’t know what to say. With a sigh and a light stretch of his arms, he stood. “Anyway, I didn’t mean to drop any heavy stuff on you,” he said. “Thanks for the chat, Flynt.”

            He’d left the soccer ball. I picked it up and carried it back to the rentals area, rolling it between my fingers absentmindedly. Neil seemed to have the kind of resolve that people dreamed of; the strength and will to do whatever it took, no matter what. His bravery intrigued me. I figured I would have to talk with him again later.

~ ~ ~ ~

            That night, I returned to my cabin, more out of habit than anything else. Unless I had a death wish—which I didn’t—it wasn’t like I would be able to sleep. I sat up on my bed, cross-legged, watching the moon creep higher into the sky. It was a perfect, chillingly clear night outside. The stars stood out in shocking relief and not a cloud could be seen in the sky.

            There was a knock at my door.

            A little surprised, but also relieved to have some company, I got up and opened it. My stomach twisted in shock, however, when I saw a very haggard Enoch standing in front of me, hands shoved into his trench coat pockets and eyes bleary with exhaustion. He regarded me in silence for a moment, then said, “I figured out what’s on the disc.”

            Out of all of the possible ways to start a conversation, I figured that was probably one of the strongest. “Oh.”

            “I thought you might want to know,” he said, “because you’d been talking with Gam about it when we first found the U-Haul. So I dropped by.”

            I nodded and stepped to the side to let him in. “What is it?”

            He walked in, glanced around, and then took a seat in the only available chair. I returned to my bed, watching as he made to reach for something in his pockets—then stopped, grimacing. He’d been reaching with his bandaged hand. He reached over to his pocket with his left hand, and from within it retrieved a handheld console. “It’s a video game. Fitting, right?”

            “Suppose so,” I murmured.

            He tucked the console in his right elbow and then fished the disc from his pocket with his left hand. “I didn’t figure it out at first because it’s not a very popular system,” he said. He paused briefly as he struggled to get the tiny disc into the console’s slot with only one hand. I didn’t dare to offer my help. “PS Vita. I own one, of course, but I hardly ever use the damn thing, and they stopped making games for it at least a year ago. I don’t even know why I bought it, really.”

            He succeeded in powering up the system. The pale glow from the screen illuminated his gaunt features. “I suppose the tiny-ass disc should have tipped me off, but… I don’t know. A video game just wasn’t my first thought for once.”

            I stared at him, feeling strangely helpless. I seemed like something obscenely important was about to happen, but I couldn’t figure out why. “Is it… Is it like Jason said?” I asked. “Is it really terrible?”

            Enoch made a face, his jaw clenched. “No. I have no idea what the fucker figured out from this thing. It just looks like a video game to me. He must have put something together that I can’t.” He paused. “Anyway, you can look at it if you want. Whoever damaged the thing really wanted to make it useless—if I try pressing any of the buttons on the start screen, it crashes.”

            He selected it from the PS Vita’s main menu and then handed the entire operation to me. I watched in silence as the game booted up. Jumpy music shot out at me from the speakers, loud and impending and strangely mysterious. Before me was a simple start menu with a few different options: mostly the usual selections like play, extras, and settings. To the right and left of this was a person—on the left was a boy, with unruly hair and wide green eyes, and on the right was a girl, with soft purple eyes and long white hair. In the middle, in a jumpy, blocky font, was the game’s title.

            “ _Dangan… Ronpa?_ ” I read aloud.

            He shrugged. “I’ve never heard of it either. Which is kind of unusual for me. It’s Japanese, that much is obvious.”

            “Did you look at the background?” I asked, frowning. “It looks like… like a picture of Hope’s Peak…”

            He nodded. “That’s the original campus, in Japan. Kibougamine. I’ve seen photos of it before. I don’t know what it’s doing in a video game, but I bet it probably has something to do with whatever conclusion Jason reached. It’s too much of a coincidence to be otherwise.”

            I nodded. “Well, thank you for showing me.”

            He stood and retrieved the PS Vita, expressionless. It looked to me like he was planning on walking out without another word, and I felt my chest tighten at the possibility. I hated the idea of spending another night alone in the darkness, praying I wouldn’t fall asleep. Before I could stop myself, I said, “Th-This reminds me of when Olivia died.”

            He turned slightly to glance at me. I’d just remembered his comments when her body had turned up, about how it wasn’t supposed to happen. “What are you talking about?” he said slowly.

            “I mean, Hope’s Peak shouldn’t be in a video game, right?” I said. “And you kept saying that she shouldn’t have died. Kind of similar.”

            I knew I was going out on a risky limb with this, but he seemed to understand what I was shooting for. “I said that about her because of the things she was talking about when she was alive,” he murmured. “She kept saying that something was wrong about all of this. Like, more wrong than just the obvious. With the way she talked… I never thought for a second that she would die.” He paused for a moment and then added, “And I think I liked her.”

            Something in his expression made me swallow. There was a pause before I spoke again. “What are you going to do now?”

            He had made his way to my door, but at this he turned to eye me. “What do you mean?”

            “Y-You… When you were talking with Buck, you said you were going to use whatever you found on the disc to locate the mastermind. So now what?”

            He looked to the side, expression disturbingly morose. “I don’t know. My one lead turned out to be completely fucking useless. I’ll think of something, I guess.”

            I ran a hand through my hair. “Enoch… I know you really want to help, but maybe it would be best if you dropped the mastermind idea? I mean, it’s important to all of us that we get out of here, but you really shouldn’t try—”

            His expression immediately twisted into one of rage. “I shouldn’t try what, Flynt? I shouldn’t try being helpful for once? Oh yeah, god forbid Enoch-fuckup-Andersen does something _useful_! Nope, that just won’t do. The only thing he’s good for is video games, and we don’t need any help with that around here. Even when it turns out that video games are actually relevant—” he shook the PS Vita in the air “—they still end up being completely useless, just like the student who’s obsessed with them! So he might as well just throw in the towel and give up, right? There’s no point in some pitiful asshole like him trying to help!”

            My hands shot up. “Th-That’s not what I meant…!”

            “Hell, I’m more useless than Desmond fucking Miles, and that fuckup was getting drunk off his ass every night until the Templars decided to kidnap him. But at least he murdered himself to save the world, right? He may have been a dipshit, but he was a dipshit who did something useful! I’m never gonna get that lucky, am I?”

            “Enoch—”

            “‘Hey, wassa-matta-you, Flyntair?’ ‘Oh, not much, Enesmond, just dying from sleep deprivation!’ ‘Really, is that it? You really think you got problems, Flyntair? Welcome to the real world, asshole. Even though I’m not actually an Assassin I’m still forced to tuck myself into an Animus every time I close my eyes and relive the image of my sister’s neck splitting open.’ On second thought, maybe _I_ should be playing the role of Altair. He got Malik’s arm cut off, after all!”

            At this point he was seething with rage, face prickled with beads of sweat. He shoved his bandaged hand in my face. “We’re all living under our own Creed, right Flynt? We’ve all got to lose a finger or four for the greater good, _right Flynt_?”

            I couldn’t think of anything to say. The PS Vita was still playing the game’s long, endless stream of mystery music, a high-energy beat that made all the wrong things about this situation seem even worse. I lowered my head.

            Enoch let out a long, loud breath through his nose. “I’ll talk to you later,” he said, voice soft and defeated, and then left.

            We are grenades. The human race is a race of living grenades. At birth, we are thrown out onto a wide and expansive battlefield that consists of nothing but other people, other grenades. Our emotions serve as our mustard gas, our ammunition. It leaks from us in a steady stream, choking and infecting everything that it comes in contact with. For some, it is in the form of explosive bursts that rip from beneath the artillery in short and brief spasms. For others, it is one abrupt, violent stream of gaseous death that leaves the person as an empty shell, a defeated husk. For the rest—the lucky few—it is a weak trickle that steadily releases itself into the air until there is nothing left: not of the emotions or the person. When we spit out violent barbs, or let drip a vicious retort, or shed but one single tear, we release more of our precious ammunition, and thus move one step closer towards our own demise.

            As the door to my cabin slammed shut, I couldn't help but think that Enoch was running dangerously low on ammunition.

~ ~ ~ ~

            The next morning, we all gathered in the cafeteria, as per the usual. I sat alone at one of the tables, quietly staring at its speckled surface. My brain was buzzing from a lack of sleep and my thoughts—along with my vision—seemed to drift together into one fractured, spiraling whirlpool of color. I started at the realization that someone was talking to me.

            I looked up to see Gigi standing next to my table, a steaming pot of coffee in her hands. She held it up and repeated, “Would you like some?”

            I hesitated for a moment, then lowered my head. “No thanks. It’ll probably just make me crash.”

            She shrugged, nonplussed. “That is quite alright, my good Flynt. Most everyone has a different reaction to caffeine, you know. But for some people it’s a help. That’s why I made a pot of coffee.”

            “That’s really nice of you, Gigi,” I said.

            Her expression was hard to read. “We all need a little assistance in times like these.”

            After breakfast, I headed down into the catacombs. It had been a good while since I’d last seen Olivia, and I wanted to talk with her about the motive, among other things. I opened the door to her room, only to stop dead in my tracks—Max was there.

            “I-I really don’t think I’m asking for that much,” he was saying. His voice shook, which frightened me. “I just… I just want to know why things had to happen this way…”

            Her gaze was stuck firmly downwards. “I don’t understand most of it myself. Anything I could tell you would just frustrate you more.”

            He stepped closer. “I can work out that problem when I get to it. Please, Olivia.”

            “I don’t remember you,” she said. “I can’t help you.”

            “That’s a lie,” he said. His tone was firm, but if anything the tremors in his voice seemed to have increased. “You may not remember me, but you can help me. Just the fact that you’re still alive is helping me…”

            Her gaze wandered to the side, and then upwards, in my direction. She stared at me. I couldn’t tell if she was surprised or not. Max glanced up accordingly, and tensed at the sight of me. He glanced at Olivia, who showed no signs of moving, and then swiftly headed for the door, brushing past me on the way out.

            “I… I’m sorry,” I mumbled lamely.

            She shrugged, but I could see the stiffness in the movement. “How were you supposed to know? Nothing was stopping you from coming in. But forget that, it’s clearly not what you came for. Would you like to hang out for a while?”

            We spent some time talking and wandering through the catacombs. Olivia seemed distant and distracted, and the thick gray lines beneath her eyes indicated a severe lack of sleep—perhaps just as bad as what the rest of us were suffering from. Maybe even worse. Despite her absent attitude, however, I still felt like we’d gotten a little closer. We sat down on her bed upon returning to the room, sitting in a more or less comfortable silence.

            At length, I said, “So, uh… Do you want to talk about what happened with Max?”

            She grimaced, somehow managing to look even more exhausted than she already did. “No, I really wouldn’t, if it’s all the same to you.”

            “I understand,” I said. I considered for a moment. “How about this new motive? We could discuss that.”

            Her expression was apologetic. “I’ve already talked with some others about that. I know what happened with Jason, too. There really isn’t much else to say.”

            “Good point,” I murmured. We lapsed into a long period of silence. It wasn’t a particularly uncomfortable one, but it wasn’t deliberate, either. I got the idea that both of us were lamenting the lack of a topic.

            Finally, Olivia raised her head. “Well, alright. How about you tell me something about yourself?”

            “Like what?” I asked.

            “I don’t know,” she said. “Anything. Family, friends, school.”

            I made a face. “There really isn’t much to say. I lived a normal life before coming here. Nothing too special, nothing too out of the ordinary. I was just normal.”

            “How about your title?” she suggested. “That’s pretty unique, if you ask me.”

            I almost laughed. “Super High School Level Good Luck? That’s just a placebo title that they give to the ‘lucky’ student. It doesn’t mean anything.”

            “I would beg to differ,” she murmured. Something about her tone made me pause.

            “What do you mean?”

            “The Good Luck student was originally chosen as a way for the school to see if the concept of luck followed any patterns,” she said. “They wanted to know if they could measure luck. If they could contain and identify it. And even though this ongoing experiment was a strange one, they _were_ met with at least moderate success. Which suggests that luck isn’t as much of a placebo as you think.” She was quiet for a moment, then added, “And anyway, your opinion says something about your character. In the past, you’ve never been so cynical about your own title. This opinion of yours could be nothing more than a negative phase.”

            Well, she had me there. “Can you really blame me?” I said dryly. “Considering recent events, I’d be surprised if I _wasn’t_ acting cynical.”

            “That’s true enough, I guess,” she said. She studied me briefly. “So? Do you think there is a reason that _you,_ of all people, were chosen as Super High School Level Good Luck?”

            I looked down, shifting in my place on her bed. “Well, when I was a little kid, I…” I hesitated.

            “Tell me,” she said.

            “I-It was when I was really young. Three years old, maybe. I… I fell down a flight of stairs. One of my cousins had pushed me, I think, not realizing how close I was to the edge. There was a lot of red. That’s what I remember the most, is the red. And my family was yelling, and people were crying, and the paramedics arrived and shone flashlights in my eyes and laid me in a stretcher and told me to stay awake but I was so tired that I didn’t listen.

            “I kept drifting in and out, on the ambulance, in the hospital hallways, in bed… I actually woke up in the middle of a cat scan. My mother was gripping my hand, and I remember that I couldn’t feel it at first, because I was so _cold._ I’d never been so cold before in my life, and never have been since.”

            Olivia studied my expression, hers as blank as a stone wall. “You’d died.”

            “I guess,” I said, a little sheepishly. “I think ‘near-death experience’ is a nicer way to put it. I had a disturbingly large amount of those when I was younger.” I thumped a hand against my chest. “Shit immune system. So… I guess you could translate that as Good Luck. My infallible ability to survive.”

            Something about that seemed to strike her as funny, because she glanced to the side and stifled a wry grin. “I suppose so. Still, it raises the question of how you managed to be fortunate enough to be randomly selected. Or rather, unfortunate enough.”

            “Well, if we’re really going to buy that luck is real,” I said, “then I don’t think it had anything to do with me. It was all a matter of my fortune.”

            “I suppose so,” she said, eyes wandering, contemplative. “Thank you for sharing that with me, Flynt. It was… well, interesting, at the very least.”

            “Of course,” I said, getting to my feet and bidding her farewell. The moment I stepped outside, my exhaustion returned.

~ ~ ~ ~

            I decided to spend some time with someone else before the day was out, at the very least for the sake of keeping my exhaustion at bay. I found Calise sitting in the cafeteria, fiddling with a deck of cards. She looked up as I approached. “Hi, Flynt! Do you want to play some cards?”

            “Sure,” I said.

            I spent some time playing card games with Calise. She wasn’t very good at shuffling, but once we actually started playing I saw that she had at least some experience. We both won and lost in equal measure. I had fun and felt like we got a little closer. Afterwards we sat outside the cafeteria, watching the lethargic comings and goings of the other students.

            “You seem pretty energetic,” I commented, studying her.

            She sighed. “Really? I _feel_ exhausted.”

            “Well, you’re just… really sociable,” I said. “And nice, even though you must be really tired.”

            “I suppose so,” she said. “I guess I just don’t see the point in being rude to others or causing issues just because I’m not happy. Sure, bad moods are pretty terrible, but not so terrible that you need to ruin someone else’s day as well.”

            “That’s… really cool of you,” I said, smiling. “Does it have anything to do with the cosplaying? I know there are some cosplayers who can be kinda mean.”

            “And entitled, and stuck-up, and _really_ bad at socializing,” she added with a small laugh. “Hmm, it might have something to do with the cosplaying. I mean, I’ve met so many mean people through my costuming, but I’ve also met a lot of really nice people. I’ve learned that being nice is the best way to get things done. It’s just a waste of time if you’re going to be mean every step of the way.”

            I nodded. “I couldn’t agree more. How did you get into cosplay anyway?”

            Her cheeks flushed. “Oh man, it’s sort of embarrassing…”

            “I won’t laugh or anything,” I said.

            She took a breath. “I really love anime and manga. And video games. I’m honestly, like… a really big weeaboo. That is the horrifying truth.”

            I grinned at her. “Well, you’ll be happy to know that that makes two of us.”

            She giggled. “Anyway. I watched Cardcaptor Sakura with my sister when I was younger. All the other ‘magical girl’ animes too. They always really inspired me. I wanted to be like them. They were just… so full of hope.”

            “So you started dressing up as them?” I asked.

            “Yeah,” she said. “They were like… perfect people to me. They had great friendships and they were so strong and brave. I thought the best kind of person that I could be would be a person like that. So I started getting into costuming.”

            “Well, you’re really good at it,” I said, remembering her Aradia cosplay.

            “Thanks,” she said. “It gets easier the more you do it. You start to get a feel for how costumes and props and makeup works, and when to use what. And it’s always a lot of fun, even if you’re a beginner. Especially when you meet other people in costume, and get to hang out with them. That’s really great!”

            I smiled at her. We eventually lapsed into silence, watching the flames lap at the edge of the firepit. Eventually she sighed and stood. “Well, I should probably get ready for another long night of not sleeping. Thanks for the chat, Flynt.”

            “Of course,” I said, watching her go. Calise was a sweet person, with a good conscious. I hoped that I would get a chance to talk with her again soon.

~ ~ ~ ~

            After the sun had set, I was planning on heading back to my cabin, but on the way there I heard the sound of shouting coming from the side of the cafeteria—as well as what sounded very horribly like blood being spilt. I ran over immediately.

            Enoch was standing to the side of the cafeteria, sword unsheathed and shaking in his left hand, the other arm bloodied and held over his face in a halfhearted attempt at defense. In front of him stood Monobear, the inhuman creature looking wilder and more terrifying than I had ever seen him before. His claws were out and glinted like chrome in the early moonlight, slate red blood decorating them and his fur. His red eye was ablaze in a hungry rage.

            I cried out in shock as the bear lunged again. Enoch attempted to parry the incoming blow, but exhaustion made his movements sluggish. Monobear batted the sword away with one hand and then dragged his claws across his victim’s ribs. Enoch stifled an agonized scream, the sword coming up from behind to hack at the bear. But he was untrained, and awkward, and uncoordinated, and his moves had little effect.

            Soon the robot stepped back on his own, preparing himself for another attack. I was desperately trying to think of a way to stop him when suddenly a blur of movement shot past me and, in the blink of an eye, I saw Neil standing between the two of them, facing Monobear, his limbs spread wide to block the bear from attacking again.

            For a moment I thought he would charge anyway—his claws were still out and he looked half-ready to launch off of the ground and into the air—but at the last second he hesitated, lowering his paws. Neil did not break eye contact, or even blink.

            “Eh…” the bear growled, sounding seriously angered. “This isn’t any of your business, you know? This student fell asleep, and now he’s gonna get punished. You better get out of the way, or I’ll have to punish you too!”

            Neil didn’t move a muscle. “I don’t care if he fell asleep. You’re not hurting him.”

            His claws clenched and slid together with the sharp, bone-chilling sound of steel on steel. “That sounds like insubordination to me! And that kind of behavior is worthy of a punishment!”

            I expected Neil to step back at that, but he did nothing of the sort. He stood there, utterly silent and immobile, as though daring Monobear to kill him. Enoch, through gritted teeth, spoke up. “I didn’t fall asleep, okay?” he said. “I was f-faking it. I wanted to get you to come out and attack me. I thought… you might…”

            The bear tossed his head back and laughed. “Thought I might what? Reveal myself? Face you in an epic, game-changing showdown? I would have thought by now that you might have realized: that’s just not my style!”

            “You’re weak!” Enoch spat. “You’re weak for hiding behind some stupid fucking robot. Why won’t you just come out and face us?”

            Monobear cocked his head. “Eh, what’s this? You think I’m weak? But look at you—you’re all bloodied and shaking and afraid and your gaze is filled with overwhelming despair! I’m the reason you look that way, and yet you really think I’m weak?”

            Enoch actually winced, a line of blood trailing from his mouth. He pressed the back of his bandaged hand to his lips and turned his head to the side.

            “You heard him,” Neil said to the bear, voice dangerously low. “He wasn’t asleep. So I think it’s time for you to leave.”

            “Eh…” he hummed, grinning. “You’re right, of course. No one likes a headmaster that breaks his own rules!”

            And then he was gone. Immediately the tension left Neil’s form and he spun around to face Enoch. “Are you alright? You’re bleeding pretty badly.”

            “I’m… I’m fine,” he said.

            “No you’re not,” I murmured, staring at the long, jagged gashes on his side, where Monobear had cut through his clothes. “You’re really not.”

            “I’m taking you to the infirmary,” Neil said, and picked him up before he could protest. He yelled out in shock and fury (and perhaps pain), but Neil was too strong to be resisted. I watched them leave in silence. Blood dotted the grass beneath my feet, vaguely illuminated by the light from my lantern. My brain felt like it was humming. I wanted so badly to close my eyes, to fall asleep, but I didn’t dare to even blink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The respective dog and snake stories shared between Haley and Flynt are all true. (I made sure to remind Flynt that Shakespearean Ophelia had drowned herself, and that therefore, by extension, his dog must be Pam. Ironically enough, Haley's dog is Max. I'm not sure what these things mean.)
> 
> Neil's story about Evelyn is also true. Go figure. 
> 
> Enoch's Assassin's Creed speech is a callback to his and Flynt's ship name, which is Flyntair. I'm glad I managed to get this reference in here.
> 
> Flynt's story about literally fucking dying is, again, true. He also does have a legitimately shitty immune system. He also suffers from insomnia, which, despite popular belief, has not given him an upper hand during this Chapter.


	23. 4.3 "Day Three"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two parts in one day? Incredible!

(Ab)normal Days Part 3

            Day three.

            The sunlight was overwhelmingly warm. I could barely tell the sand beneath me apart from my own skin—it was too hot to tell what was what. The sky was an endless, unbroken blue, soft like baby’s blankets, bright like glittering glass. Birds cawed. Reeds swayed. Fish popped their mouths on the surface of the water, looking for food. The lake lapped at the edge of its banks. The air smelled of moss and weeds and failure.

            “Flynt?”

            “Yes?”

            “We’re going to die, aren’t we?”

            “I think so.”

            “I’m just… so tired.”

            “Me too, Haley. Me too.”

            Silence. I heard her shift in the sand, squinting against the bright sunlight. “I’m sorry,” she said.

            “Why?” I asked.

            “I should have… I should have done something,” she said. “I could’ve… I don’t know. I could have done something.”

            “I don’t think there’s anything you could have done,” I murmured.

            She sighed. “Yeah, I guess so. But it sucks to think that I just sat here and did nothing this whole time. That I didn’t even try.”

            I was too tired to think of a proper way to comfort her. We were laying in the sand near the edge of the lake, staring up at the empty sky. Sleep would overcome at least one of us soon—that much was clear. My vision blurred on occasion as my eyes tried to force themselves closed. I wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer.

            “Maybe we could put up one final fight,” I heard Calise say. She was lying on a rock nearby. “Like what Enoch did. One of us could pretend to fall asleep, and then we’ll all attack Monobear at once.”

            “We wouldn’t win,” I said.

            “You’re probably right,” she murmured. “But still. At least we wouldn’t have gone down without a fight.”

            “And Neil could probably do some damage,” Haley added.

            I heard Buck grunt from where he was sitting at the foot of the water. “If Monobear’s smart, he’d kill him first. Then me or Haley. Me for sure, if I had a gun.”

            “None of us have guns,” Neil muttered.

            “I know that,” he snapped. “I’m just saying.”

            We were all quiet for a long moment. The repetitive sound of water lapping the shore lulled me, and I was approaching unconsciousness when Neil spoke up again.

            “So what do you guys think?” he asked. “Is there an afterlife?”

            “I’m not sure I _want_ to think about that,” Calise murmured.

            “There probably isn’t,” Buck said with a huff. “But if there is, I sure as hell ain’t going to it. Not with the shit I’ve done.”

            No one responded to that—it was hard to think of a good reply. At length, he spoke up again. “But, you know. If there _is_ an afterlife, or multiple afterlives, like Heaven and Hell, then I want to go to whichever one Dani’s at. I don’t care if it’s the shit one, I just hope I end up there. Cause then I can be with her. And maybe Pam will be there, so I can apologize to her. Yeah. Yeah, that would be good.”

            “You’re not as bad of a person as you think, Buck,” Haley said softly.

            He snorted. “Yeah well, you would say that. You guys, all flowers and sunshine and fuckin’ rainbows. You’re too good to me. Always were.”

            “Where are the others?” I asked.

            “Enoch is still at the infirmary,” Neil said. “I checked up on him maybe an hour or so ago. He’s… been through a lot. He’ll probably pass out soon. But if he doesn’t then he _will_ survive his injuries.”

            “Gigi and Max are both around the lake somewhere,” Calise said. “I saw them earlier. I have no idea where Gam is.”

            “I wonder if they’re still alive,” Haley said absently. The comment might have startled me three days ago, but now, in the light of our approaching narcolepsy, it seemed more than appropriate. Everything was still, save for the water and wildlife around us. I wondered if Monobear would kill us in our sleep, or wake us up to do it.

            “Hmm…” Buck said suddenly. His tone caught my attention.

            “What is it?” Calise asked.

            “Something on the water,” he said, then paused. “A boat.”

            I heard Haley sit up beside me. “Yeah, you’re right. I guess someone wanted to go out on the lake.”

            “They’re lying down,” he said.

            “Maybe they’re asleep,” Neil said.

            Everyone was silent for a long moment. I forced myself up onto my elbows so that I could look out at the water. Indeed, there was a small wooden rowboat, sailing along with the water’s current. The person inside was lying down, the top of their head only barely visible above the boat’s prow. “I wonder who it is,” I said.

            Haley’s expression held a distant note of concern in it. “They’re sailing towards the fence.”

            I looked again to see that she was right. With the direction of the wind and current, coupled with the fact that the person inside wasn’t steering, it would only be a matter of minutes before they crashed into the electric fence at the opposite shore. I stared. “Maybe we should do something.”

            “Like what?” Buck said.

            “I don’t know,” I said. “Sail out there or something. Stop them.”

            “We’re all going to die anyway,” he grumbled.

            “No… No, Flynt is right,” Haley said. “We should go out there, just to be safe.”

            “Well, I’m staying here,” Buck said. “You too, Calise.”

            “What?” she said. “Why?”

            “Because I don’t want some bad shit happening to you,” he said. “And anyway, if something’s gone really south… we’ll be each other’s alibi.”

            Haley, Neil, and I all took the short trip down to the boat docks. Walking out onto the creaking wood, we noted that one of the rowboats was missing. Haley hopped into another one and Neil and I promptly joined her. The water cleaved into two long, rippling ribbons as we sailed out, parting gently at the insistence of our boat. Haley guided the oar until we were set on a direct course towards the other boat, drifting listlessly through the water.

            We were about halfway across the lake when Haley said, a belated hint of panic in her voice, “We’re not going to make it.”

            I squinted at the other boat. I still couldn’t tell who was inside of it, but it was now frighteningly close to the fence. Neil opened his mouth to say something, but got no further—in that moment the boat closed the few remaining feet separating itself from the fence and thudded against it.

            Two blistering lines of bright, electric blue crawled up the sides of the boat and set light to the contents inside. The air was filled with a great, cacophonous hissing and humming as the electricity latched onto its prey. Smoke snapped and popped out of the boat in steaming lines. A burning, charred smell filled the air. My heart pounded in my head and my eyes went wide at the sudden, frightening power that the fence was releasing. Then the boat was caught in the current once more and drifted quietly away from the fence.

            “H…Holy shit!” Neil managed.

            Without another word, Haley shoved the oar into the water and redoubled her efforts to get to the boat. I felt dizzy and afraid. I wanted to tell her to turn around, but I didn’t have the strength to even open my mouth.

            As we approached, I could see that the person was lying comfortably along the boat’s floor, legs draped over one bench and head resting on the other. A knife was stuck through his chest, just beneath his left shoulder, and two long, thin wires had been tied to the blade, wrapping around the front of the boat. His left hand was hanging over the side of the boat, fingers drifting listlessly in the water. His eyes were closed and his expression was clear and relaxed. I couldn’t remember having ever seen him look this calm before. It was Enoch.

            Haley drove our boat up along his, silent. I glanced at Neil and he immediately looked down, eyes dark. Once we were close enough, I carefully reached out and wrapped a hand around Enoch’s wrist. His skin was warm from the electricity, but there was no pulse.

            He was dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to write this whole paragraph about how profound some of Buck's comments are in this part, but I ultimately decided against it. I mean, you all understand Buck's character at this point. You understand what's happening here.
> 
> You know.
> 
> You just know. 
> 
> Even if you don't know, you really do know.
> 
> And if you honestly still think that you don't know, you can message me about it and I'll attempt to explain.


	24. 4.4 "Her Mind is an Enigma"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let us do the investigate.
> 
> Keep in mind that this part contains some DR/SDR2 spoilers. (We're discussing the genders of the deaths in Chapter 3. It's not a serious spoiler, but I just want you to know that it's there.)

Investigation

            The bracken surface of the water reflected someone far too wild, haggard, and afraid to be me. Regardless I kept my eyes firmly locked on his; it was easier than staring at Enoch’s body. My breath caught in my throat as Monobear’s voice rang out across the campsite, muted from distance but still clearly audible.

            “A body has been discovered! After a brief period of investigation, a school trial will commence. And, eh, if you’re interested, please report to the cafeteria for some energy shots.”

            It had happened again. Despite our best efforts, despite the fact that we’d accepted failure, it had still happened again.

            Haley took a deep breath. “W-We need to get him to the shore. Could someone…?”

            “I’ll do it,” Neil murmured, then carefully crossed from our boat into Enoch’s. He crouched at the back of it, near his feet, and retrieved the oar that was lying along the bottom, beneath the benches. Following Haley’s lead, he steered the other boat after ours.

            Once on dry land, Neil tugged at the bow, pulling it safely out of the water’s current. The boat lay along the beach at an angle, Enoch’s feet closest to the water. It looked like a makeshift coffin. I shuddered.

            I saw Buck and Calise running towards us from the top of the beach, expressions painted ravenous with concern. Buck skidded to a stop in front of us, kicking up sand, and stared down into the boat. “Shit,” he said. “Shit, shit shit shit shit shit.”

            Calise slowed behind him, arms pressed together at her chest. She glanced over his shoulder, at Enoch’s face, and then looked down again. Soon we heard the sound of more footsteps, and Gigi and Max appeared at the crest of the hill. When they saw the boat they both hesitated, the wind buffeting their clothes and kicking up Gigi’s hair as though it were a living thing.

            The silence extended on for far too long. Finally I called, “It’s Enoch.”

            Max turned to look the other way; Gigi lowered her head.

            “What do we do now?” Haley asked.

            “Investigate,” I murmured. “What else is there?”

            Neil glanced around. “Where’s Gam?”

            “Fuck if I know,” Buck growled. “We don’t have time to wait for her, okay? Either we figure out whatever the fuck happened here, or we die. There’s nothing for it.”

            Gigi chose this moment to approach, her umbrella slung over her shoulder as she twisted it left and right between her fingers. “Hmm,” she mumbled. “I did fancy it a good day to die.”

            “And where the hell have you been?” Buck asked.

            “Fishing,” she said. Something about her stance was prideful, but she wasn’t smiling. “I’ve always wanted to catch a fish. I thought I might make some time for it before losing consciousness.”

            He scoffed. “Maybe we should have called you Super High School Level Cat Imitator instead.”

            “Oh, good idea,” she said. “And we can call you Super High School Level Bad Jokes!”

            “Could you guys stop, maybe?” Calise said, not without a hint of desperation in her voice. “Enoch is _dead._ ”

            “Quite,” she said, and looked away.

            “Buck and I can guard the body,” the cosplayer added, tone unexpectedly firm. Buck didn’t protest.

            Before I could be plagued with yet another interruption, I pulled out my ElectroID and quickly scrolled to find the new entry. Sure enough, it was there. A Monobear file on Enoch’s death. Steeling myself, I selected it and began to read.

            _The victim is Enoch Andersen. His body was found in a boat near the far side of the lake. He died around 10 in the morning. The cause of death is electrocution via the electric fence. There is a sword going through his left shoulder. He is missing four fingers from his right hand, has multiple bruises on his face, large gouges on his right arm, and several gashes along the left side of his ribs: these injuries are older. There are no traces of poison._

            I took a deep breath. I’d been present for many of the injuries listed, and the Monobear file even specified that they were older. At first I was concerned that it would choose include old information, but it occurred to me that part of the point of the files was to list all injuries inflicted upon the victim. I sighed and lowered the ElectroID to look at his body.

            I knelt to look at his face first. There were dark, purplish bruises beneath his lower lip, his nose, and under his eyes. I remembered seeing them last night, when he’d gotten in his fight with Monobear. Frowning, I let my eyes wander down to the sword in his shoulder. That was definitely new. As I squinted at it, I realized that this weapon was familiar.

            “It’s Enoch’s short sword,” Haley said from behind me. “The culprit must have stabbed him with it.”

            “I wonder how they got their hands on it,” I said.

            “There could have been a fight,” she murmured. “It’s hard to tell, what with all of his other injuries.”

            “Hmm… I don’t think so,” I said slowly. “The Monobear file specifies which injuries are older. It would have said something if there was bruising related to the murder.”

            “I guess so,” she said. She was quiet for a moment, then added, “It goes all the way through his shoulder.”

            I hesitated briefly, then knelt down to pull his shoulders forward. He was frighteningly light, especially for a dead body. The short sword was stuck in one wooden panel on the floor of the boat. “The culprit had to have used a lot of force to do this,” I said. “It couldn’t have been an accident.”

            I heard her sigh, bitter. “That’s what I was thinking.”

            I turned my attention to the thin metal wires that extended from the weapon’s hilt. Tracing one of the lines, I saw that it led along to the front of the boat, where it was secured to the frontmost tip with electrical tape. Tapping a finger against it revealed that it was still warm.

            “Conductivity,” a voice said in my ear, and I jumped, wheeling around to see Max, expression lingering on morose.

            I took a breath. “H-Hey! Don’t scare me like that.”  
            “You’re jumpy,” he said, then pointed at the wire. “Anyway. It’s a conductor. For electricity.”

            “I figured as much…” I said.

            He continued on regardless. “Without it, the boat would have bumped harmlessly against the fence. This was a purposeful set up. The culprit deliberately wanted to electrocute him.”

            “You sure know a lot about what happened for someone who wasn’t here,” I said, frowning.

            “The others filled Gigi and me in,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Do you suspect the two of us? Well, I can hardly blame you. The five of you were together, correct? You all have workable alibis. That leaves Gam, Gigi, and myself as the primary suspects.”

            “I… I don’t mean to be suspicious,” I tried.

            He shrugged. “You’re merely doing your job.”

            Moving my gaze further downward, I noted the three long scratches on Enoch’s side, cutting through his clothing. I’d been there when Monobear had delivered the injury. Beneath the shredded fabric I could see bandages from the infirmary. His hand was also newly wrapped, and his arm was cloaked in gauze.

            Neil crouched beside me, sighing heavily. “He didn’t have anything to defend himself with when Monobear attacked him. He was using his bad arm like a shield, so it took on some pretty heavy damage. And then Monobear scratched him, of course…” He sighed again.

            “Did you do these bandages?” I asked. “When you took him to the infirmary, I mean.”

            He nodded. “Yep, that was me. That was hours ago, though. I don’t think it has anything to do with the case.”

            “Did he stay there when you left him?” I said.

            His eyes wandered upwards in thought. “Yeah, basically. I visited him pretty often, but as far as I could tell he didn’t move around much or try going anywhere. He was usually resting in one of the cots or pacing around the room when I saw him. He never seemed particularly bothered or anxious. In fact, it seemed as though he’d accepted defeat, like the rest of us.”

            Neil’s expression was twisted into something hard to read. I got to my feet. “This isn’t your fault, Neil. I don’t want you to blame yourself. I don’t know why this happened, but I can say with confidence that it wasn’t because of you. We’re gonna get to the bottom of this, okay?”

            “Flynt…” he rubbed the back of his neck. “That sounded really gay.”

            “Th-That’s not what I meant,” I said tartly.

            “Riiight,” he said, but he seemed to have cheered up, so I figured I’d drop the subject.

            I let out a long sigh as I stared down at Enoch’s body. Something seemed strange about it. Just as I was thinking that, Calise walked up next to me. “Don’t you think the way he’s lying is odd?”

            “Yeah, now that you mention it,” I said.

            She frowned down at him. “He looks so relaxed. He’s not even tied up! If he was in danger of being electrocuted, or if he’d been stabbed like that, I don’t think he would have died in such a calm position.”

            “You have a point,” I murmured. “It _is_ strange. Do you have any idea why this might have happened?”

            “Not a single one,” she sighed.

            I stepped away from the boat, feeling restless. It was hard to say for certain what had happened. I glanced to the side to see Buck, his arms crossed over his chest. “What do you think about all of this?” I asked.

            He narrowed his eyes at me, then glanced to the side, out across the water. “I think he offed himself.”

            My eyes went wide. “Really?”

            “Yeah,” he said. “’S not that hard to stab yourself like that. Dunno why he set up all this complicated bullshit with the boat and the fence, but… suicide makes sense. He was… He was like how I felt. How I _still_ feel. I don’t really blame him.”

            “It’s… a nice theory,” I said. “But I’m not so sure. Something seems off about it.”

            He shrugged. “I could see where you’d get evidence against me, but… I don’t know. I don’t think it works any other way.”

            “We’ll just have to keep trying,” I said. “Until we know for sure.”

            His lip pulled up in what was half a snarl and half a grin. “Yeah, that’s you, Flynt. Always so positive and upbeat. Heh, I suppose one of us has to play that role.”

            I turned back towards the shore, wondering where I should go next, only to find Gigi standing behind me, lips pressed into a thin line. “How goes the investigation, Flynt?” she asked.

            “Alright, I guess,” I said. “I’m not really sure where to go from here. I suppose I should try to find where the boat was docked before he got in it… and where the culprit got all of these supplies from… I don’t know.”

            Something about this response seemed to satisfy her. “Good. Perhaps you would like some company, then? I wouldn’t mind having someone to work with this time around. It would make the time pass more pleasantly.”

            “Alright,” I said. Despite her antics, Gigi was a nice person to have around, and I was secretly relieved that I wouldn’t have to go through this whole process alone. “So what have you figured out so far?”

            “I think the most interesting thing can be found in the Monobear file,” she said, pulling out her ElectroID. “Or rather, it _can’t_ be. Like with Jae’s, this file says that there are no traces of poison, but it doesn’t say anything about ‘other drugs.’ It appears as though Enoch was given something before death.”

            “Maybe Neil gave him some pain pills?” I suggested.

            “Maybe,” she said. “But it seems like far too much of a coincidence to be acceptable. Well, I suggest we go take a look around and see what we can’t find, yes?”

            “Sounds like a plan to me,” I said.

~ ~ ~ ~

            “…And I’m beginning to feel like we could have done something to stop this,” Max said, eyes narrowed with an intensity that was beyond my level of coherence. “Do you understand?”

            “I suppose so,” I said, letting my eyes drift to the side, in order to give him the impression that my level of interest was restrained. It wouldn’t be right of me to lead him on otherwise, what with his mentally paraplegic girlfriend waiting backstage.

            He continued on regardless. “This murder was very much a deliberate one, and not just on the part of the culprit. I think Enoch had a role to play as well.”

            _Yeah, death_ does _tend to be a pretty important role,_ I thought to myself, but didn’t say it out loud. There had to be a better joke than that.

            I could not think of a better joke than that. I stared at him in helpless disillusionment. “Good… theory,” I finally said.

            What the fuck was wrong with me? I’m Gam Ponytore, goddamnit, the sexiest thing alive. Sexy is my middle name! Well, my _fake_ middle name, that is. I would tell you my real name, but I’m just kidding I would never tell you my real name.

            Anyway. Sexy. And yet here I was, getting my shit unseated by this piercing-stuffed fuck with an unstable god complex. He wasn’t even doing anything that appealing. If anything, I should have been offended—having heard Monobear’s announcement, I’d come running down to the lake, only to get interrupted by this smooth criminal and his restless, emotionally-charged theories. I’d half a mind to punch him in the face if it wasn’t for the fact that I’d probably get my hand ripped off by all the metal.

            Have I mentioned yet that Enoch is dead? Yeah, that’s… That’s important too.

            Max was looking down. There was something troubled and morbid in his expression, much like Steven Spielberg might have looked after discovering the existence of _Sharknado_. “I wouldn’t entirely mind having some company during this investigation. Would you be interested in accompanying me?”

            I gave him the most relaxed shrug I could manage, but I think I probably ended up dislocating a shoulder in the process. “Sure. Yeah, sure. Why not. Maybe we should take up Monobear’s offer on those energy shots first, though?”

            “I suppose so,” he said, looking passionately indifferent.

            I led the way along the long, broken path leading from the lake area to the clearing. There was little discussion during this time, but Max didn’t seem much perturbed by the lack of talking. If anything, he seemed to appreciate it. My humor was probably already wearing thin. I didn’t blame him, considering all of the past eleven paragraphs have contained at least one joke. (The one you’re reading right now makes twelve.)

            We found Monobear sitting atop one of the cafeteria tables, toying with, of all things, a bottle of five-hour energy. He glanced up as we came in. “Eh, looks like someone needed a boost, am I right? Each student can have one of these, free of charge.”

            “What, no hidden fees?” I asked. “No blood tithe? No sacrificial ritual? I’m a little disappointed.”

            He waved a paw at me. “You can do all of that on your own time. I’ve got a murder to worry about!”

            “Fair,” I said, then snatched one off the counter. I quickly chugged it, making sure to jam it down my throat so the disturbingly acidic flavor wouldn’t reach my tongue. Max made no move, so I raised an eyebrow at him as I finished. “What, too godlike for an energy boost?”

            “No,” he said. “I just don’t see the point. It’ll only tire me down in the long run.” 

            I made a face. “I think that _is_ the point. Maybe for once I’ll actually be able to sleep after the trial.”

            He didn’t have a response to that.

            After a while we returned to the lake, both of us agitated about the lack of actual, proper investigating going on. As we reached the crest of land overlooking the water, I stopped and turned to face him. “So you got any particular game plan in mind, or are we just dickin’ it?”

            “I’ve already taken a look at the body,” he said. “Unless that’s particularly important to you, I’m not interested in visiting it again.”

            I considered, but my decision was more or less already made for me. I had something to do before the investigation was over, and skipping the body would ensure that I’d have enough time. “Nah, I’m good.”

            He frowned at me for a moment, clearly disapproving of my illogical investigation habits, then said, “Very well. I would like to visit the boat dock and investigate the banks of the lake. I believe we could find some clues there. I also think it would be beneficial to revisit the tack store.”

            “You think the culprit was taking notes from Jason?” I asked.

            “Something like that,” he said. “Come on.”

            He led me along the banks, past a dip in the beach where I could see Calise and Buck standing next to a boat. Having had the crime scene described to me by Max, I knew immediately that this was where it was, and made sure not to look any closer. Enoch had been too nice of a person to be dead. Not looking at the body allowed my subconscious to keep up the illusion of his living. That, and corpses are icky.

            As we walked out onto the dock, I made sure to study the places from which boats were missing—there were two gaps in the procession, each of about the same length and width. I turned to Max. “You say that Flynt and the others took their own boat out to see what was going on?”

            “That’s right,” he said. “That’s why there’s two boats missing.”

            “And the first one was already gone when they got here?”

            “Obviously,” he murmured with a frown.

            “Just checking,” I said, demure.

            He knelt to inspect the ropes tied to the dock. They were soaked through and heavy, snaking into the water beneath his palm. He pulled them out to study the full length. “These ropes aren’t damaged, which means that there wasn’t a fight and the boat wasn’t pulled free on accident. Hmm, a shame. That had been a critical part of my theory.”

            “It means that the culprit—or Enoch—nabbed the boat on purpose,” I said.

            “It seems so,” he said, and then stood. “Well, we should probably try to find the exact place where Enoch got on the boat.”

            “Oh great, that sounds fun,” I growled. “We’ll just have to walk back and forth around the lake for the next hour.”

            “Don’t be so dramatic,” he huffed. “I had Haley explain the boat’s general path to me. If she’s remembered correctly, and isn’t lying, then the vessel should have originated somewhere over there.” He pointed past the location of Enoch’s body towards a copse of trees that were hugging the edge of the water. I couldn’t see past their branches.

            “Off we go then,” I said.

            The trail along the side of the lake extended into the trees where it was eventually broken up by a series of increasingly uneven rocks. Though our path was slightly impeded, it was far from being impossible to navigate. After our short rock climbing expedition and a few minutes of exploring along the shore, I noticed a patch of the bank where weeds and cattails had been flattened and torn asunder.

            “This must be it,” Max said, walking over. A long strip of ground had been scraped flat, leaving a slick muddy trail into the water. Bits of grass and reeds had been clawed and bent in the boat’s wake. I knelt to examine the makeshift ramp.

            “What do you think?” he asked. “Does it indicate a struggle?”

            “Kinda hard to say,” I muttered. “Shoving a massive piece of wood into a body of water usually involves a struggle anyway.”

            I glanced up to see him grimacing. “I can say _this_ for sure, though,” I added. “Whoever brought this boat over here couldn’t have carried it by land; unless they had help, there would have been drag marks leading the way. They had to have rowed it, in the water, which means they did this on purpose.”

            “A very good point,” he said, lowering his head in thought. I glanced over at the water again. There were huge, knotted piles of weeds and cattails clumped along the nearby banks, high and heavy. Perhaps enough to hide a boat in. Frowning, I got to my feet.

            “We should head to the tack store now,” Max said. I followed him back towards the rocks in silence—but we were quickly stopped by the presence of two other people digging amongst the nearby reeds. We stood side-by-side, watching in silence as Gigi’s head emerged, followed by the long and slender stalk of a fishing pole. Soon after I saw the bob of Flynt’s ridiculously-styled hair. (Honestly, an ahoge? How much more weeaboo can you get? And anyway, considering recent developments, it was just plain creepy.)

            Gigi spotted us, said something to Flynt, and then walked over. He followed. They approached in silence and stood side-by-side in front of us, Flynt across from me and Gigi across from Max. The four of us regarded each other for a moment.

            “Fishing?” Max asked finally, voice low. “How terribly productive of you.”

            “Oh, shush,” Gigi said, dismissive. “We were just retrieving my rod. I abandoned it when I heard the body announcement, you see.”

            “How’s the investigation going for you guys?” Flynt asked in earnest.

            Max looked to me, then back at him. “Gam thinks Gigi did it,” he said, tone more than a little childish. I shot him a furious glance that he refused to return.

            “Oh?” Gigi said, the distinct sound of a near-inhuman purr catching the end of the word. “How very intriguing. Flynt thinks Max did it.”

            He shot her the same shocked glance that I’d attempted to give Max. Biting my lip, I spat, “Well Max thinks Flynt did it.”

            Flynt spluttered for a few helpless moments before finally rounding us off with, “Gigi thinks Gam did it!”

            She offered me a smug grin. “What say you to that?”

            “You’re wrong, for starters,” I muttered.

            “Because?” she said.

            “Because shut up,” I said. “Shut up is why.”

            “Oh, so we’re quoting Homestuck now? How very original of you.”

            “What, you’ve got a problem with my humor?”

            “You _are_ a Super High School Level Comedian. I would have thought you might have come up with something better than that.”

            “Well… Well didn’t you get the memo? Max’s title is Super High School Level Homestuck Quotes! He’s been giving me pointers this whole time!”

            “Oh, very good! You’ve gotten the originality bit down nicely. Now you just need to say something that’s actually funny.”

            I huffed. “At least I can do something more useful than pretending to be a cat all day.”

            “I beg to differ. It has its perks.”

            “More like its pricks. Hint hint.”

            “What’s this, a play on words? It looks like you _do_ possess a basic understanding of your own craft!”

            “It’s called a pun. Fuck you.”

            “It’s a paw-sitively paw-ltry excuse for a pun, if you ask me.”

            “Then it’s a good thing no one’s asking.”

            Max took a step forward, brooding. “It’s not like I’m not completely enamored with this conversation or anything, but don’t you think it’s about time we knocked it off?”

            “And anyway, it’s unlikely that any of us did it,” Flynt said with a sigh. “If I was the murderer, I certainly wouldn’t be in a very joking mood right now.”

            Gigi stifled a grimace. “Well, there’s something there.”

            “You must admit that this is quite the interesting gathering, however,” Max said. “The three people who don’t have an alibi, and Flynt. If it wasn’t one of us, then who was it?”

            “Wait, hold up,” I said. “What do you mean, the three of us don’t have an alibi? What’d the other five do to get one?”

            “We were together at the beach when Enoch died,” Flynt said. “We can vouch for one another.”

            I glowered at him, expression critical. “But couldn’t the culprit have set this up ahead of time?”

            Max considered. “It’s… not likely, but it _is_ possible.”

            “I doubt it,” Gigi said, head turning from side to side in an absent, edgy motion. The wide, staring eyes of her goggles glanced my way and she smiled. “It doesn’t change my theory that Gam did it.”

            I had no idea if she was serious or not.

            Once the four of us had dispersed, I followed Max as he led the way to the tack store. It was a long walk, and like before, he seemed content to spend the majority of it in silence. Still, I couldn’t stop myself from walking up alongside him, hands shoved in my pockets and expression a forced attempt at indifferent.

            “So…” I said, holding the _o_ sound for as long as I could without things getting awkward. “Max. Maximillian. Maxwell. Maximus. Maxfield. Maximo. Maximum Overdrive—”

            “Were you planning on actually going anywhere with this?” he growled.

            “Sorry,” I said. “Just wanted to ask what’s on your mind. You seem… you know. Thoughtful. Pensive. Tense, even. It’s possible, perhaps, that one could describe you as—”

            He cut me off with a long sigh. “I get the point. Yes, I’m a little pent up at the moment, as it were. Things aren’t really going the way I wanted them to.”

            “How did you want them to go?” I asked.

            He shot me a raven-black glance. “I didn’t want anyone to die, for starters.”

            “And yet here we are, eight bodies later.”

            “That’s… one way to put it, yes. I just thought we would be able to get out of here. All of us. And the more time passes, the less likely it is that _any_ of us will escape.”

            “Heh, shame we don’t have a Super High School Level Escape Artist.”

            He stopped dead in his tracks and spun around to face me, teeth grit. “Do you even understand the gravity of this situation? Are you even aware of the fact that your life is threatened? You could very well _die,_ Gam. And yet you do nothing but sit here and make pointless jokes.”

            “Th-They’re not pointless,” I managed, bristling slightly. “You know, maybe it would be easier for things to ‘go your way’ if you lightened up for once. Humor can be just as powerful as this serious depression thing you’ve got going on.”

            He scoffed. “Your humor isn’t going to get anything done. In fact, it’ll probably get you killed.”

            “I don’t see _you_ getting anything done. All you do is sit around and brood like you’re in a Telltale Game or something.”

            “Not only did I not get that reference,” he snapped, “but it’s also the most irrelevant thing I’ve ever heard. Life isn’t a video game, Gam Ponytore. You can’t hide behind references and jokes and a _fake name_ forever.”

            It felt like a snake was going to crawl up my throat, lunge out of my mouth and rip his stupid bleeding heart out. Barely able to keep my voice level, I spat, “Fuck you and the angst-driven train you rode in on,” and stalked off towards the tack store.

            If he followed me, he had the common decency to wait until I was out of sight. Regardless, I was eager to keep my time in the tack store short. I had other matters to attend to anyway. I noted pretty quickly that there was yet another roll of wire missing from the store’s racks, plus a small hole in the stacks of electrical tape. It seems as though the culprit _had_ chosen to use some of Jason’s tactics for their murder. I sighed, agitated, wondering if there was any significance in it.

            Tired and annoyed from my argument with Max, I decided I’d spent more than enough time on the investigating portion of my day. There was, unfortunately, something much more important for me to worry about. Moving quickly, I made my way past the clearing and to the forest, taking care not to be seen. No one was around here at this time anyway—they were all down at the lake gathering as much evidence as they could.

            Well aware that the cameras had their eye on me, I leaned against a tree off the side of the path, near the U-Haul, and sighed, pretending to look upset. Luckily, the recent spite with Max probably made the act look believable. I waited a few moments, acting as inconspicuous as I could, and then gently pressed up against the tree—a portion of the bark slid inwards, and I disappeared inside.

            Because it wasn’t actually a tree, you know.

            It was a secret entrance.

            There was a small decline in the ground to stand on, but it quickly and steeply slipped off into a long, dark pit. A ladder was constructed along the side of it. It was a tight squeeze, and once I got inside I had to suffer through a strong wave of claustrophobia. It passed with the sudden realization that I was way too cool for claustrophobia, however. Tight spaces were no match for my coolness. So cool. Super cool.

            Ice cold, Gam. Ice cold.

            It was a long and uncomfortable trip down, but by now I was used to it. My feet hit the earthen, dusty ground with a muffled thud, and I heaved a low sigh of relief. I unclipped my lantern from one of the loops on my jeans and flicked it on, casting gaunt shadows into a small and narrow stone corridor. I really only turned the light on out of habit. I knew the way well enough.

            Although I was in a hurry, the lengthy walk was still sort of calming. It felt good to have some time when no one was watching me for once, and I was happy about my destination. Soon the corridors began to widen and grew somewhat less unkempt. A few of the torches were lit in some places, and before long _all_ of them were, allowing me to turn off my lantern and proceed in the warm amber glow. Eventually I reached the door that marked my destination.

            I knocked out a rapid tempo on the worn wooden surface. “Do you wanna build a snowman? No, of course you don’t. Now open the door, asshole.”

            There was a short period of silence, followed by footsteps, and then the door creaked open. Olivia leaned against the threshold, eyeing me. “There’s no need to be so loud.”

            Though her expression was serious, I could tell that she didn’t mean much by the comment. I grinned at her as she stepped aside to let me in. “Please. You know I only have one volume setting.”

            She didn’t offer much in terms of a response. I glanced around the room, happy to be somewhere where I felt at least moderately safe. She’d left her computer screen on; I could see the small, clipped images of a couple characters on the screen. She was reading the translation for the second _Dangan Ronpa_ game. The two of us still had no idea as to why the mastermind had chosen to give her access to translations, or what the hell was so important about this game anyway, but at least it gave us something to do during downtime.

            There was a plot diagram for the first game scribbled across her window, covered nearly entirely in arrows and markings, with little drawings to indicate parallels or any information that Olivia thought it was important. I already knew it pretty well, and wasn’t too interested in reading through it again; instead, I placed a hand in the cleft between the top of the wall and the glass and pulled it downwards, flipping the window the other way. On the other side was another plot diagram, this one for the second game.

            I studied it for any additions, like I always did, and found that Olivia was just wrapping up the end of Chapter 3. She’d put a note above the victims’ names: _First game, two males; second game, two females. Both female culprits. Pattern has been disturbed in our situation._ I frowned, then turned to look her way. “What do you mean, the pattern has been disturbed?”

            She made a face, looking troubled. “Both of the third culprits were female in the games, but Jason was male. It breaks the pattern. I suppose you could count transgender as the same gender for the victims, but… it suggests a disturbance regardless.”

            “What do you think it means?” I asked.

            “I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t know what the _whole game_ means. This Monobear shows up and more or less imprisons us, and then we find two games in which he does the exact same thing to others? The stories have to be connected somehow, but… I can’t put it together. Not yet.”

            “You’ll figure it out,” I assured her. “If anyone can, it’s you. Which brings us back to the question as to why the hell the mastermind thought it was a good idea to give you this information.”

            “They’re overconfident,” she murmured, her favorite accusation. “They’ve gotten reckless. Their behavior is much more extreme than it is in the games. But enough of that. You came here for a reason, after all.”

            She said it with a light tone, but I knew it was meant to be a warning of sorts—she wanted to get on topic. In all honesty, I couldn’t figure out how she felt about me and my easily-sidetracked self: half the time it seemed as though she appreciated my interjections, but the rest of the time it seemed to send her into a kind of paralytic, mute, self-induced guilt trip. It hadn’t taken me long to catch onto her quirks, however. I knew well enough when she would prefer me to get down to business. And I planned on doing exactly that right at that very moment.

            I took a seat on her bed and let out a low breath. “It was Enoch.”

            She was quiet for a moment before saying, “I figured as much.”

            “What do you mean?” I asked.

            Her jaw clenched and unclenched. “Tell me what it looked like. The crime scene.”

            “I… didn’t see it myself,” I said. “I was in a bit of a rush, trying to get here and all. He… He was in a boat. He got electrocuted on the fence. The culprit set up some wires to make it work. He was stabbed ahead of time, in the shoulder… That’s all that immediately comes to mind.”

            She took a deep breath, and then absently nodded. “Thank you for telling me, Gam. I appreciate it.”

            “’S just my civic duty,” I said, offering her a weak smile. “But, uh… Do you have anything to contribute? A theory, maybe?”

            She’d offered some advice before Jason’s trial. It hadn’t been anything crucial, but I found her input to be of at least some use. At the very least it put me on the right track. She studied me for a moment, then glanced down, eyes dark. “I know who the culprit is, actually.”

            I blinked, surprised. “Mind telling me?”

            “You know I can’t do that,” she said.

            I sighed. She was right, of course. This wasn’t our first time discussing it. If she gave me any information, I would have to be able to prove to the others that it was valid during the trial—and that would involve revealing her existence. “It’s alright, I get it,” I said. “Just thought I’d try anyway. Do you have any, uh, hints, as to how it is that you know?”

            She glanced downwards, choosing her next words carefully. “The culprit visited me before making their kill. They had something they wanted to discuss with me.”

            I felt a knot of concern take root in my chest. “Did you… Did you know they were going to kill Enoch?”

            She hesitated briefly, and then nodded. “But don’t take that the wrong way, Gam. This murder isn’t what you think it is. Something… out of the ordinary happened here, and I was just as powerless to stop it as anyone else. Remember that. It will be important.”

            I returned her gaze, feeling more determined than usual. “You got it, chief.”

            I figured I’d hang out with her a while longer; it wasn’t like I’d be able to get much else out of the investigation that Max or someone else hadn’t already figured out. I refrained, of course, from mentioning my fight with him; Olivia didn’t need to deal with that. And anyway, as previously stated, I’m Gam fuckin’ Ponytore. I could handle myself. I mean, come on? Me in danger? Me _dying?_

            Now that would be ridiculous.

~ ~ ~ ~

            “…And it would be most unfortunate for us to make a mistake at this point,” Gigi said, tone light but somehow dark at the same time. “You understand that, don’t you Flynt?”

            I shrugged, walking a few steps behind her on the way to the infirmary. “I think that’s always the case, isn’t it? I mean, if we failed on one of the other trials, it would have had the same consequence that failing on this one does.”

            “I suppose,” she said. As usual, it was impossible to read her expression with her goggles in the way. “But this one feels particularly important to me. Now, come on.”

            We’d arrived at the entrance to the infirmary. She held the door open for me, even though I could have easily taken care of it myself, and then stepped inside after me. The sunlight from outside illuminated the building’s interior well enough, and I noticed immediately that the bed sheets on one of the cots were crumpled and in disorder. I walked over.

            “He must have been sleeping here,” I said, staring down.

            “Affirmed,” she said brightly. “I visited him once, when I first found out about his fight with Monobear. This was indeed where he was sleeping.”

            I glanced up, looking around the whole of the building. “Okay. Does it look like anything has changed or been moved since then?”

            She made a show of turning in a slow circle, one finger pressed to her lips as she studied the room. “Ah… let me see here.” She raised a finger and pointed. “Well that’s certainly suspicious.”

            One of the storage drawers was hanging open. My heart sunk when I realized that that was one of the locations where drugs were kept. Gigi walked over and silently pulled the drawer all the way open, peering inside. “Mm, that’s worrisome. This is where they keep the sleep medication. Looks like some Ambien is missing, of all things.”

            “What’s that?” I asked.

            “A very fast drug used to deal with insomnia,” she said, getting to her feet. “It seems as though our culprit decided to knock Enoch out.”

            “Strange that Monobear didn’t try to kill him then.”

            She shrugged. “If there was a murder going on, I doubt he would.”

            “I guess so,” I said, then looked to the cabinet again. “I guess they were in a hurry, leaving it open like that. But it’s a good thing, I suppose. We might not have been able to figure this out otherwise.”

            “Quite right,” she said, and then took a deep breath. “Well, that wraps up my investigation. Thank you for accompanying me, Flynt.”

            “It was no big deal,” I said, then looked down. “To be honest with you, I don’t like doing these investigations alone. It’s… harder that way, I guess. Maybe… I don’t want this to happen, of course, but maybe, if there’s another murder, we could do this again?”

            She looked startled for a short moment, mouth hanging slightly agape. And then she smiled. “Why of course, Flynt! Thank you for this kind invitation.”

            I grinned back at her. “Of course.”

            I knew there wasn’t much time left until the trial, so I decided I would take what little was left to visit Olivia. On my way there however, down in the catacombs, I encountered Gam around the corner of one dark stone corridor. She looked startled to see me.

            “Oh, hey Flynt,” she said, blinking rapidly. “Wasn’t expecting to see you down here.”

            “I wanted to talk to Olivia before the trial,” I said.

            She nodded absently, looking to the side. “Yeah, yeah, good plan. I like it. Real adventurous. Good stuff.”

            “Are you alright?” I asked, frowning. She seemed to be more than a little frazzled.

            “Who, me? Nah, I’m fine. I’m cool. Ice cold. I’ll talk to you later, Flynt.” She left before I could manage to get another word in.

            I found Olivia inside of her room. She looked up as I entered, clicking off the monitor to her computer. The confusing plot diagram on her wall looked like it always did: confusing. I offered a weak smile and said, “I just saw Gam. Was she visiting you?”

            She nodded. “Yes. She explained the situation to me. It’s… a shame that Enoch has died.”

            Something about her behavior seemed even more refined and restricted than normal, but I didn’t comment on it. Instead, I said, “What do you think happened? I’ve done as much investigating as I could, but it’s hard to get a good story together this time around.”

            Her expression was dark. “I think this murder is very different from previous cases. I think that will be an important thing to keep in mind moving forward.”

            I blinked at her cryptic response. “What do you mean?”

            “That’s all I can say,” she said. “Sorry Flynt.”

            “It’s alright,” I murmured. “I understand. I’ll… I’ll come back and visit you again, so long as we survive the trial.”

            “Of course,” she said.

            When I got out of the catacombs and back on the surface, I heard the sound of Monobear announcing the start of the trial. My blood ran cold in my veins, but I didn’t back down. What choice did I have, anyway? The nine of us gathered behind the clearing, staring down into the pit that would lead to the elevator. And then we proceeded forward in silence.

            Long, slim shadows of light flicked across my face and those of the other students as we descended downward. Soon we fell into utter darkness. My heart pounded in my chest and my legs felt shaky, but I refused to let it show. We would get out of this alive. We had to.

            The doors opened onto a courtroom of order and chaos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lotta references in this one. Telltale Games, Homestuck, etc. I tried to slip a Battleblock Theater quote in there, for Enoch's sake, but it ruined the entire flow of the dialogue, so unfortunately I had to kill it off. Sorry about that.


	25. EQ Ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She returns. Sort of.
> 
> There's a song referenced in this chapter. You can listen to it [here.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GUW6SuHPYwo)

School Trial Part 1

            I walked up to the podium and noted for the first time the sign posts with pictures of our deceased friends scratched out in red paint, this suddenly infuriated me. We were here once again in this grim room filled and emanating in pure despair and hatred. We were falling apart as friends I found it hard to put my faith and trust in my comrades. But I had no choice, this I vowed would be our final trial.

            As I stood at the eerie podium we all fell silent, and Monobear’s voice rang out in the ghastly silence.

            “Ok chop chop, get to work children you know the rules; you will all discuss the evidence for a brief time and then vote for the beautiful bastard who killed your friend in cold blood. Now I know you are all really tired but hey look at it this way you all can take a nice long nap once this all is over… your naps will all just have a more permanent effect if you know what I mean. Upupupupu upupupupupu”

            I couldn’t ignore this; I got up off my stand and walked over to the snickering stuffed bear.

            “Are you mother fucking telling me that we are not going to come out of this on top, because I fucking know the outcome, we have been here and done that and got the t-shirt god damn it. Now you better buckle your pants because this is the hokey pokey anonymous, IT’S A PLACE TO TURN YOURSELF AROUND MOTHER FUCKERS.” And that’s when I ripped off my plastic face mask, it was I Enrique con Queso the whole time. After my adventures with my amazing duck crew on our amazing friendship I needed a new adventure. So I hijacked this one.

            That’s when Olivia walked into the court room and removed her own face mask as well; it was Gonzo my loyal first mate.  He stood before my peers and then Gigi spoke out.  
  
            “What is this bull shit I didn’t sign up for this? I just wanted a normal fucking life with NO massively confusing plot twists written by M. Night –fucking- Shyamalan, ok Flynt what the fuck is going on?”

            “It’s simple,” said Haley “it was all a ruse; Flynt you have been the protag of a murder mystery narrative aren’t you. And all this time it was being written by who we thought was our SHSL Writer! It all makes sense now!”

            Gam was not pleased by this response “ok, no Haley this doesn’t make a lick of sense, if you aren’t Flynt and Olivia, then where are the real Flynt and Olivia?”

            That’s when Flynt and Olivia busted in through the entrance, with AK’s strapped to their chests and grenades attached to their belts; they looked like regular commando soldiers.  
             
            “Everyone get back that’s not Flynt and Olivia those two happen to be the traitor and mastermind, they orchestrated this whole thing so they could have one last adventure, they are adventure seekers, it was the last hint Enoch left us before he died, but they stole it from us so we would never learn the truth. That Enoch created the mastermind and traitor and locked us all in here via his own imagination!” Flynt yelled from across the court, Olivia opened up her handbag and threw a manuscript on the floor; it was thick about 200 or so pages.  
  
            “NO!” I yelled

            “Yes,” scoffed Olivia, “your gig is up. We have been on to you since we first woke up in the catacombs of this mysterious camp site.”

            Buck stood up and screamed “what the actual fuck is happening someone explain everything, I feel so out of the loop right now.”

            “Enoch wrote a story really late one night called “ _the Brave Duck Crew of Enrique con-Queso_ ” about a man who sails to the moon on a boat with his crew full of ducks. After their story ends they took control of Enoch’s story, erased our memories, and trapped us here via magical weapons Enoch wrote into the narrative. We lost our memories because we were all hit in the head with “The Rock of Amnesia” they are all addicts to adventure.” Flynt explained.

            I laughed manically, “congratulations you found the manuscript from whence we came, but it doesn’t matter now, we have won and reduced your number enough to safely exterminate you all, My brave crew of ducks rise and come to me!” a horde of monobear robots entered the court room from the ceiling propelling themselves from ropes, there were a total of 413 monobears in the room, and all at once the heads popped off and ducks ejected from them all wielding different and mystical weapons.

Peg-Leg the Patchy, my second best friend, leapt upon the Judge’s Stand and held a bright red button in the air. He quacked and slapped the button with his wing. Then all of a sudden every speaker around the campsite began playing music. A song very familiar to me, it was “Mr. Finale” By Will Stamper: The Battle Began.

            “NOW MY CREW… pause for dramatic effect… ATTACK!!!” I cried, but Flynt was way ahead of me, he threw one of his AK’s at buck and tossed Haley a bow and quiver of arrows. Olivia drew her weapon and began shooting amuck the horde of ducks, one by one my mighty crew was falling, Flynt handed weapons to the rest of the children.

            One of my ducks caught Gigi off guard, and nearly slashed her with his Battle-Axe of Belligerence, when he missed; Calise shot it point blank with a shotgun. Flynt in the name of Enoch drew a Sword and began dueling with Gonzo my mighty sword master, Flynt was untrained in Sword Combat but yet he still was managing to pull off successfully parrying my first mates attacks. Max Had a Spear in hand and was skewering my beautiful avian as if they were pineapple to be grilled.

            The mysteries were not yet all solved but somehow it no longer mattered, Gigi was shooting ducks left and right with her revolver and after 10 minutes or so, all of my ducks were dead, but one, Peg-Leg the Patchy, he was weak and feeble he could not fight, so he simply stood by my side.

            Tears welled up in my eyes and I became sad, all my hard work all my adventures was all for naught, we were defeated and brought down by weapons of the future, mighty as they were. Flynt however was still battling Gonzo in the corner: And Gonzo had gained the upper hand.  


            Flynt was stumbling from exhaustion, and Gonzo swung up hard with his blade knocking Flynt’s sword right across the room, and as Gonzo drew back for the final slash, a loud Boom sounded off, it was Peg-Leg, he fired a round from an AK, and hit Gonzo square in the head: perfect shot.

“NO! PEG-LEG WHY” I cried,

“Because,” he began,” I’m not Peg- Leg” the ducks head popped off, and there Buck stood crawling out of the ducks skin, that had once been my second best friend. “Surprise Bitch, this one’s for Dani” he fired rapidly but I ducked and caught him off guard knocking the gun from his hands, I punched him square in the nose, and drew my two swords from their respective sheathes.

Haley fired arrows my direction but I sliced them right down the head. Gam followed up by firing his Taurus Judge beside me, I evaded the fire and sliced her gun’s barrel in half, which is an incredible feat, considering it doesn’t have one. Flynt picked up his sword and charged my way, and swung blindly, I parried and spun around 720 degrees bashing the sword in his hand, but he did not falter, he gripped the hilt firmly and swung back, while Olivia fired rounds my way.  
           

I did a back spring out of danger and then I saw max with his spear he was attempting to stab me, granted he had the range I managed to quickly tilt my head as he stabbed at my head I pointed the edge of my blade up and swung my arm up cutting the tip of his weapon off, it was no more than a wooden stick. Regardless he continued to swing and attack, while Calise snuck up from behind me, I noticed her and fell to my back, she fired a single round of her shot gun at me as I fell, but she missed, on my back I spun and swept her legs.  
  
            Olivia’s blind fire was becoming hazardous, and Flynt was once again swinging his sword in my vicinity, there were too many of them, buck was now resorting to using his fists, to try to strike me down, and I was wearing down, Neil had grabbed one of the ropes used to repel and was running the walls wielding a magical spatula spoon he picked up from Cookie the Cook, he swung it and a mini spatula spoon flew from the weapon, it hit me in the face unexpectedly, and confused me greatly, I it was pretty much the most useless weapon in our magical arsenal, why the fuck was Neil wielding such a piece of shit in a highly bad ass manor,  
           

The students were getting cautious with their fire trying not to hit one another yet bring me down, this was a difficult task for them because they were all at relatively close range to me, Olivia kicked Gonzo’s sword over to Flynt who was now Dual wielding the same as I and was pulling off decent sword play, buck swung his fist to punch me while I was dueling with Flynt but I ducked down and he hit Calise grabbed his fist and pressed my shoulder into his stomach vaulting him over me and onto Calise who was on the floor rolling from the punch. Buck accidentally kicked the Execution button on his way to the floor and suddenly the world got quiet.

EXECUTION

The words rang out clear in my mind Execution title, One for All.

Max began hitting me from behind with his staff, I had to kick max in the gut and block Flynt’s double upper slash with a cross block, it launched my arms back, staggered, Flynt slashed down and cut my right arm off.

“That’s for Jae,” he yelled and then Gam ran to and threw a fist full of dirt into my eyes blinding me momentarily,

“That’s for Ryan!” she cried

I backed up into a wall and Haley lit an arrow on fire with one of the torches lighting the room up, firing it pierced my left shoulder burning and scalding my flesh. “That’s for Jason”

Buck grabbed my head and head but me.

“That’s for Ohanzee!”

Max hit me on the side of the head with his staff

“That’s for Pam!”

 Neil grabbed the tip of the spear and rammed it into my right lung repeatedly and leapt back.

“That’s for Dani!”

Only one left, Olivia walked up to me teary eyed and grinned eerily, “This one’s for Enoch…” she took my blade from my right hand and began slashing viciously at my chest and remaining arm, and finally but slowly pierced the sword into my chest…

… … …

Unfortunately none of the kids could leave for they so foolishly killed the mastermind before they could find out all of the secrets and mysteries to this place including how to leave so they lived in the campsite not killing but living and being happy with their life choices, knowing that even still one of them killed Enoch… but who could it be, they may never know…

. . . . . .  


Flynt opened his eyes, still in the elevator on his way to the court room … hmm that was an odd idea of how the events could take place, but it was utterly ridiculous and he knew that. Oh well I guess the trial is about to begin, one he would surely never forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might have noticed that this chapter sounds a tad different than previous ones. That's because it was written by Enoch, not me. He wanted his own ending, and, quite frankly, he deserves one. Still feeling quite guilty about killing him. 
> 
> Enrique con Queso--as well as virtually every other new character featured in this chapter--is part of Enoch's own story, The Brave Duck Crew of Enrique con Queso. No, I'm not making this up. 
> 
> The Finale song is from the game Battleblock Theater, which everyone in the world should play. Go play it.
> 
> The ACTUAL trial is coming later today. An hour or less.


	26. 4.5 "Dying Without"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alright, now I'm back for real.
> 
> Another two chapters in one day. It helps that I didn't actually write one of them.

School Trial Part 1

            The banners in the courtroom were now a dark, rich blue that stood out against the pale, featureless stone in the rest of the room. I took a deep breath as we entered, taking in dust and dirt. We took our places at each of our respective podiums, eyeing one another in nervousness. The abundance of signs in the room, with their usual portraits of the dead students, somehow seemed more oppressive and disturbing than usual. Monobear crossed one back leg over the other, leaning back in his throne.

            “Hey, you bastards actually didn’t take that long for once!” he said. “I’m kind of impressed. But then again, maybe that means that you couldn’t find much evidence? Maybe you guys did so badly that this will end up being the final trial!”

            “In your dreams,” Gam muttered, glowering at him. “Now are you gonna shut up and let us get to work?”

            He waved one paw at her, grin churlish. “As you were.”

            Haley took a deep breath. “Where should we start this time?”

            “I think the cause of death would be a good point of reference,” Max said. “Some of us saw it, after all.”

            Neil nodded. “He was in one of the rowboats, drifting towards the fence. He got electrocuted, which killed him.”

            “How did the shock reach him, anyway?” Calise asked. “A boat can’t carry an electric charge.”

            “That one’s pretty self-explanatory, I think,” Buck grumbled. “The culprit had hung some wires on the front of the boat, which in turn were hooked up to the sword in his shoulder. That would have been enough to send the shock almost directly into his heart.”

            “They used electrical tape to secure the wires, correct?” Gigi said. “Where do you suppose they acquired such supplies?”

            “The tack store,” Gam said. “I went there to check it out, and there was some electrical tape and wire missing from the stock. That must be where they got it from.”

            I made a face. “Hang on a minute. Isn’t that more or less the exact same thing that Jason did?”

            “Yes, it is,” Max murmured. “I was considering it myself. It’s possible that the culprit was patterning their kill off of Jason’s work.”

            “A copycat?” Calise said with a frown. “But why?”

            “I can’t think of much of a good reason to go to such effort,” Gigi said. “But perhaps they are in a similar mental state to the one Jason was in. Or they had a reason for mimicking his techniques.”

            “Or maybe they just did it because the tack store is the only place on the campsite to get those supplies from,” Haley said, seemingly resisting the urge to roll her eyes.

            Max glanced at her, then back at the rest of us. “Either way, it means we have a very intelligent murderer. They used other skills and tactics that they have observed in order to perform their own kill.”

            “If they’re so damn intelligent, then why did they go for such a stupid setup?” Buck snapped. “By observing all the stupid shit the other culprits have done, wouldn’t they have been able to figure out that a shorter, simpler murder had a better chance of success? Hell, the reason most of these past culprits have failed is because they made things so fucking complicated that their plan was full of holes. This culprit doesn’t seem to be any different.”

            Neil pressed a hand to his mouth, thoughtful. “You have a point, but I still think we should consider the intelligence of this culprit’s actions. They used the electric fence to make their kill, rather than an actual weapon. And the sword that they stabbed Enoch with was his own—they didn’t use anything, save for the tape and wire, that could be tracked back to another source.”

            “Actually, that’s not completely true,” I said, thinking back to the investigation. “Gigi and I found one of the shelves left open in the infirmary. It contained sleeping drugs inside of it, some of which were missing.”

            “Enoch was drugged?” Calise asked.

            I nodded. “It was a little easy to miss in the Monobear file, but it doesn’t state that there are no traces of other drugs. That means the culprit must have used something on him—and Gigi and I found out what.”

            The cat expert nodded. “Ambien. A fast-acting drug primarily used to combat insomnia—but it could very easily have been used to sedate Enoch as well.”

            “Wait a sec,” Buck said. “You mean to say that the culprit had left the drawer open? What the actual fuck?”

            “Maybe they were in a hurry,” Calise suggested.

            “And yet you still want to convince me that they were being smart about this?” he said.

            “I think what’s more interesting is the location itself,” Max said. “Did the culprit retrieve the Ambien while Enoch was in the room? Or did they get him to somehow leave first? It would have been tricky either way.”

            “Yeah, I highly doubt that he left the infirmary,” Neil added. “I checked on him pretty often, and he never went anywhere or showed any signs of doing so.”

            “Let’s assume he didn’t leave then,” I said. “That means the culprit would have taken the Ambien from the room while Enoch was there.”

            “ _And_ after the last time I checked up on him,” Neil said. “Because I made sure to check everything each time I visited, and I think I would have noticed an open drawer.”

            “That gives the culprit about an hour to do all of this in, yes?” Gigi asked.

            “Just about,” he said.

            “Do we know that for sure, though?” Buck said with a frown. “I mean, think about the order of events. Neil checked up on Enoch. Then he, Flynt, Haley, Calise, and myself all went to the beach. We were there for the next hour, when Enoch hit the fence. This means that the culprit had to have nabbed the Ambien during that hour. But what about the boat?”

            “Yeah, he’s right,” Haley said. “We would have noticed if the culprit was dragging the boat from the dock to where they drugged Enoch.”

            “Actually, I don’t think they dragged the boat in the first place,” Max said. “There would have been scuff marks in the dirt. Unless they had help, of course.”

            “Er, is that possible?” Calise asked. “An accomplice?”

            Gigi shrugged, as though indifferent. “Max, Gam, and I do not have alibis for the hour in question. It is, in theory, possible that two of us were working together.”

            “But even if the culprit had help, the boat couldn’t have been moved during that hour,” I said. “We would have seen them. It’s the same story if they rowed the boat. So that means that the boat had to have been moved _before_ that hour.”

            “Which means none of us have an alibi,” Buck grumbled.

            “Um, not exactly,” Calise said. “I mean, we still have alibis for the Ambien. Which means it’s possible that one of us is the accomplice, but not the killer.”

            Neil frowned. “Is that really the case? I mean, what if the killer is the person with an alibi, and the accomplice is the one who got the Ambien? How can we be sure?”

            Monobear waved a paw. “Eh… Alright, I’ll let you bastards in on a little hint. Since the culprit is the person who _killed_ the victim, the official culprit is whoever it was that pushed the boat towards the fence.”

            “Which means that it also has to be the person that took the Ambien,” Max said, nodding. “Good. I also think it’s fair to rule out the possibility of an accomplice, as the culprit could have rowed the boat to its destination ahead of time without needing help.”

            “Hey, guys…” Buck said, glancing around the courtroom. “What if Enoch killed _himself_? It’s possible, isn’t it?”

            “What do you mean?” Haley asked.

            “Well, think about it,” he said. “Enoch was in the room when the culprit took the Ambien. If it was him, it wouldn’t have been a problem. And if he waited until after one of Neil’s visits, he could have moved the boat without anyone noticing. It would also explain why he wasn’t tied up in the boat.”

            “Then why did he need the drug in the first place?” Calise said.

            He eyed her. “He would have been asleep. It wouldn’t have hurt that way.”

            “But if you’re right, then he stabbed himself,” Neil said, incredulous. “That would have hurt like hell! And setting up all those wires like that? No, there’s no way. I _know_ he didn’t leave the infirmary before that hour. It can’t have been him.”

            “Eh…” Monobear made a face. “I hate to interrupt, but Neil is right. See, a suicide doesn’t count as a murder. If he’d killed himself, there wouldn’t have been a trial!”

            “What?” Gam yelped. I spun around to see her eyes wide, staring at Monobear, the color drained from her face. “But that’s not what you—that’s not how it—you… You changed…”

            He pressed a paw to his lips. “Eh? Is something wrong? These are the rules, y’know! I didn’t mention them before because it wasn’t relevant, but this has always been the case.” He narrowed his eyes. “ _Always._ ”

            Her hand had balled into a fist and her teeth were grit in a silent rage, but she didn’t say anything else. What the hell was going on? I stared at her, confused and startled. Her eyes flicked my way and then back again.

            “A…Anyway,” Neil said. “It can’t have been a suicide. We know that much now.”

            Haley sighed. “Okay, wait a minute. Let me put this all in order. The culprit electrocuted Enoch on the fence, using wire and electrical tape from the tack store. They got him to the fence in one of the rowboats. They used Ambien from the infirmary to put him to sleep beforehand, a drug which they had to have acquired during the hour before the murder. They moved the rowboat in the time before this, however. Which reminds me. We still don’t know where they moved the rowboat _to_ , do we?”

            “Yes we do,” Max said. “Gam and I found a spot on the beach that was broken up and damaged, as if a boat had been moored there. This location matches the direction the boat took across the water.”

            Gam seemed to have relaxed. “I, uh, also noticed a bunch of reeds along the bank. I think someone could have hidden a boat there.”

            Calise made a face. “If they hid the boat that means that Enoch didn’t know about it.”

            “So they walked him along the shore to get to the boat?” I asked. “Wouldn’t we have seen that?”

            “Maybe,” Neil said. “But maybe not. I mean, we would have noticed someone carrying a boat, but maybe not someone who was just walking. Especially if they timed it right or went from the right distance.”

            “Alright, I can buy that,” Buck said. “So they drugged him at some point, took him to where they’d hidden the boat, and then what? Stole his shortsword and stabbed him?”

            “It seems so,” Max murmured. “He was probably weakened from being drugged.”

            “That wouldn’t have mattered,” Gam growled. “He was injured seven thousand ways to hell and suffering from sleep deprivation. The point of the drugs wasn’t to make him weak.”

            “What was it then?” Gigi asked, leaning forward to eye her.

            “I’m not sure, to be honest. It seems to me like there was no point to it,” she said with a sigh.

            I took a breath, considering, but no immediate answers came to mind. Finally I said, “Well, let’s think about what happened next. The culprit must have pushed him into the boat, right?”

            “Makes sense,” Haley said. “Then… Then what? Enoch wasn’t tied up, was he?”

            Calise clicked two fingers together. “Ah! Maybe that’s why they drugged him. So he wouldn’t have to be tied up.”

            “But that seems silly,” Neil said. “It would be much easier to tie him up than to go to all the effort of drugging him. Why bother?”

            Buck pressed a hand to his chin in thought. “What if they wanted to make it _look_ like he had committed suicide? I know it’s sort of a longshot, but think about it. All of this really obvious evidence—the open shelf in the infirmary, the copycat style of the murder, the fact that he wasn’t tied up—all of it points towards this being a suicide. But Monobear said it can’t be one. So that had to have been done on purpose, right?”

            We all hesitated, glancing at each other. He had a very good point, but it was hard to say whether or not he was right. Finally Gigi spoke up. “Let’s work on debunking that theory in a little while. Here’s a more pressing issue—was Enoch awake when he was electrocuted?”

            “It seemed as though he were asleep to me,” Haley said, sounding troubled.

            “Then wouldn’t Monobear have stepped in to kill him?” Neil said. “Sleeping was against the rules.”

            The bear in question waved a paw. “Eh, I’m not gonna interfere with a murder. It’s a murder! That’s exactly what I’m here for, y’know?”

            “So he could have been asleep,” Gigi said. “In fact, it seems as though Monobear is _implying_ that he was asleep.”

            Our headmaster seemed to grimace, but didn’t say anything.

            “The drug was what knocked him out, of course,” Max said. “That’s what Ambien is for, after all.”

            “And then they pushed him off the shore and into the fence,” Calise said softly.

            Buck nodded, expression absent. “Alright, maybe I’m starting to get what you mean when you say this culprit is a smart one. I mean, they let us see Enoch’s death without having to be anywhere near the crime scene.”

            “Exactly what Jason did,” Neil said. “It really _was_ a copycat murder.”

            “Let me go over things here,” Haley said. “The culprit set up a boat at a specific place on the shore ahead of time, hiding it in the reeds so it was out of sight. Then, in the hour before the murder, after Neil had checked up on Enoch, they went to the infirmary and got some Ambien without arousing Enoch’s suspicion. Then they drugged him, took him to the place on the shore where the boat was, stole his sword from him, and stabbed him in the chest. He was weakened from his recent injuries and because of the no-sleep rule. Then they pushed him into the boat. Soon the drugs took effect, and he passed out. They set up wires onto the boat so he would be electrocuted by the fence, and pushed the boat out towards it, killing him.”

            “Two questions about that,” Gam said. “Firstly, how did they get that Ambien out from under his nose? And secondly, how did they do all of that shit without us knowing? The only way it would have worked was if Enoch came willingly.”

            I felt my heart sink. “Wait a minute, Gam. You’re right. He _must_ have come willingly. And that’s how the culprit got the Ambien, too—the culprit was someone that Enoch trusted. Someone who wouldn’t rouse his suspicion by grabbing a drug or taking him to the lake.”

            “But…” I could see the confusion—mingled with a slight hint of guilt—on Buck’s face. “But there was no one who he trusted… None of us ever got close to him.”

            No, there was. There was one person. They’d kept it hidden, and been discrete enough about it that I hadn’t realized until then. But there was definitely someone here who had been close enough to Enoch to pull all of this off. I raised my head to speak.

            Gigi cut me off before I could get a single word in. “I know who the culprit is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This marks the shortest trial out of the all the trials so far. Not sure why it ended up this way, but we got all the crucial information out there, so it doesn't matter much.
> 
> Interesting note, because I enjoy doing pointless research for my writing:  
> The Biblical Enoch, in several different translations of the Bible, is noted to have not actually died. He ascended to Heaven without having to die, skipping that step entirely. Just thought it was worth noting.


	27. 4.6 "Days One and Two"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to tie up Chapter 4.

School Trial Part 2

            I hesitated—Gigi had taken the words right out of my mouth. I felt like adding in that I knew who the culprit was too, but something about her expression—the thin line that set her lips, the tensed ridges of her jaw, the orb-like gaze of her goggles—made me stay silent. Whatever she was about to say, it was going to be important.

            Her chest seemed to puff up, but it wasn’t a prideful gesture. “It was me.”

            “Wh-What?” I spluttered. “I was going to say it was Neil.”

            He blinked at me, looking shocked. “Wh… What the fuck, dude?”

            Gigi shook her head brusquely. “I can certainly see where your evidence is coming from, Flynt, but I’m afraid you are off the mark by quite a lot. Neil is innocent. I am the culprit. I killed Enoch Andersen.”

            “What?” My heart was hammering in my chest. “But why would you just give yourself away like this? It doesn’t make sense! You can’t be the killer.”

            She leaned forward against her podium. “Oh please, Flynt. Don’t play the denial card for my sake. Be intelligent about this: you are correct that the only person who could have pulled this off is someone who was close to Enoch. But, in order to be even marginally successful, they would have had to be secretive about their friendship. Neil is far too obvious of a target.”

            “Then what makes it you?” I asked.

            “Who was the one who spoke with Enoch three days ago, before Monobear revealed the motive?” she said.

            “I… I don’t—”

            “Come now Flynt. You saw it. It was me. Who was the one who was mysteriously absent for the whole of the three days leading up to this murder?”

            “It…”

            “Was me, yes. Who was the one who suggested that we investigate the infirmary?”

            “I—”

            “Me. Who was the one who showed you the half-open cabinet inside of said infirmary?”

            “It w-was you, but… But you can’t have been the killer!”

            I hadn’t noticed it before now, but her hands were gripping the podium so tightly that her knuckles had turned bright white. The tips of her fingers shook as she leaned forward further, the lenses of her goggles near taking up my vision. “You’ve got that wrong, Flynt. I’m the killer and you know it.”

            Buck’s wide eyes glittered with confusion. “But I don’t—what the fuck? If you’re the killer, then why are you telling us that?”

            “There are many reasons to end a life, Buck,” she said. “Not all of them require one to keep it a secret.”

            Haley’s expression was aghast. “I… I think this is going to require some explanation.”

            She half-stepped back from her podium, pressing her knuckles against the top of its surface, some of the tension seeming to leave her—but only some. “Certainly,” she said.

~ ~ ~ ~

            _Day one._

            _He was sitting at the table with his arms tucked in his lap and his head bowed, as though he was praying. To what God or person, she couldn’t claim to know. The fading sunlight filled up the long, wide windows of the cafeteria and poured over one half of the table, cloaking it in warm yellow. He sat on the opposite side, draped in shadow, utterly still._

_Gigi couldn’t even pretend to understand the emotions going through his head, but that had never stopped her before. He needed company, right now more than ever, and that wouldn’t change—no matter how distant or brooding he made himself seem. She sat down across from him at the table, fingers pressed against the soft and peeling wood._

_His eyes flicked sideways, noting her presence, and then down again. “What do you want?” he muttered._

_She glanced sideways, trying for aloof. “Just to talk. You seemed lonely over here, sitting by yourself and all. It would hardly be appropriate of me to leave you in such a state.”_

_His expression was guarded; one of distrust. “My sister’s dead, four of my fingers are dead, and the mastermind isn’t. Do you see the problem here?”_

_“Yes, I do,” she said. “And I must say that I sympathize with it. If you don’t mind such an interjection, of course.”_

_He eyed her. “No, I don’t. I wish you’d stop being so pretentious about it though.”_

_Gigi leaned forward, gaze startlingly intense despite the fact that he couldn’t see her eyes. “Very well, I can see that you’re in no mood to fuck around. I wouldn’t be either, were our roles reversed. I’ll give you the straight and narrow: you’re depressed, and in my book, that’s unacceptable.”_

_“Can you bring my sister back? That would help,” he said with a grimace._

_“Would it really?” she said. “Would it really help to have the threat of death once again looming over both of your heads every single waking moment? Because I don’t think it would.”_

_He didn’t have a response to that. She watched him in silence as his shoulders lowered, the tension leaving him in a barely-audible sigh. A few other students had wandered into the cafeteria by now, having finished exploring the new area, but Gigi paid them no mind, and they did much the same to her._

_“So, you’re planning on killing the mastermind?” she said at length._

_“Yes.” His tone had grown aggressive: Gigi knew she had struck a particularly fresh chord. Just what she was looking for._

_“Well, it’s not a terrible idea,” she said. “And you’ve a marginal chance of success, all things considered.”_

_She didn’t need to see his expression or even hear him say a word to sense the surprise that emanated from him. He stared at her in silence for a long moment. “Alright, stop fucking with me. Like you said, I’m not in the mood.”_

_“I’m not joking. Really!” she said, and allowed a light laugh into her voice. “I don’t understand why everyone else is making such a fuss. If you think you’re equipped to do it, then by all means, go ahead.”_

_A small smile flickered across his mouth, and she fought down a wild grin—she was getting somewhere. He held up his injured hand and muttered, “Yeah, ‘equipped.’ No kidding.”_

_Her hands twitched slightly against the counter, and she couldn’t resist the urge to lift them onto the table. “Could I see?”_

_He hesitated for a brief shadow of a second, and then laid his hand out on the counter. She gently slipped a palm beneath his and lifted it up slightly to study the bindings around the stubs of his fingers. He shook slightly when the edge of her palm grazed him. Wincing at the fault of her own touch, she said, “It must hurt.”_

_“No shit,” he muttered._

_“Any painkillers?”_

_“No. It would only slow me down.”_

_She was quiet for a moment. “That is… reckless. But also smart. I admire your dedication.”_

_“Thanks, I guess.” Drawing his hand away, he glanced down to the side, then up at her again. “Hey—”_

_It was at that very unfortunate moment that Monobear chose to enter the cafeteria, bringing with him the dark and unpleasant news of his new motive. It filled Gigi with an uncomfortable foreboding that crawled up her throat and stuck there, just where her tongue lay, so that she could always taste it but never bite down. That evening, just before she could retire to her cabin for a long night of not sleeping, she stopped by the training room._

_There was no doubt in her mind that Enoch could be found here. In fact, she hazarded a guess that this would be where he spent the night. Gigi had seen, and even participated in, the ordeal that Buck had gone through after Dani’s death, and she was not keen on the threat of suicide looming over yet another student. That was her goal. She simply wanted to ensure that he was safe from himself._

_She found him hacking away at a training dummy, body tense and coiled with strain. His eyes were dark, pupils quivering as he struggled to stay focused. Gigi leaned against the nearby wall and watched in silence for some time, troubled by the thick layer of sweat that covered his skin and the shaking in his limbs, but taking care to not let that show in her expression._

_At length, she spoke up. “At this rate you’ll be asleep in the next few hours.”_

_“If we’re lucky, the mastermind will be dead by then,” he said in between breaths._

_“Optimistic,” she hummed. “I like it. Although I’m sure this motive hasn’t done much to help your disposition.”_

_He shrugged rather brusquely. “It’s stupid. It’s a power play. But I’m not gonna let it get me upset, especially when I’ve already got a shitload of other things to cry over.” He was quiet for a moment, staring at the brutalized front of the training dummy. “Why are you here?”_

_“Whatever do you mean?” she asked._

_“You were all… trying to comfort me or whatever this morning,” he said. “And now you’re visiting me while I train. Why?”_

_She twisted the tip of her umbrella into the fake grass beneath her. “Enoch. I would hope that you don’t think I’m regarding you as a charity case. I don’t—quite the opposite, in fact. I think you’re a threat. To Monobear, to the mastermind, to every student here. Including yourself.”_

_“Kinda hard to trust what you’re saying when you’ve got those goggles on,” he muttered. “It’s too suspicious.”_

_She grinned. “It’s a shame that I’m not going to take them off, then.”_

_“We’ll see about that,” he said, then sighed. “So what? You’re here to monitor me?”_

_“Ah, not exactly.” A hand played at her lips. “But I’ve always had quite the affinity for wild cards. Perhaps I’m just following my instincts?”_

_“You say it like you don’t know the answer,” he said._

_Slinging her umbrella over her shoulder, she headed for the door. “Maybe I don’t.”_

_She passed the rest of the night by lying upside down on her floor, humming while staring at the inverted shape of the moon through her window._

_Day two._

_It didn’t take her long to find Enoch. He was sitting outside of the training room, hands resting in his lap. His expression was contemplative, in a dangerous kind of way that Gigi didn’t like at all. She walked up and sat down next to him without a word._

_Birds tweeted. He studied the trees in an absent manner for a few moments before saying, “I have a plan.”_

_She waited._

_He waited as well, but when the seconds had stretched on for far too long, he spoke again. “My lead with the disc… didn’t work out. I’m not going to be able to find the mastermind. So I have a different approach, something that will hopefully save everyone’s lives.”_

_“I’m listening,” she said._

_“I’m going to trick the mastermind into thinking I’ve fallen asleep. When they come to execute me, then I’ll attack. If I’m lucky, I’ll win. If I’m unlucky, he kills me. If neither, then I’ll kill myself tomorrow morning. That way there will be a trial, which will end this stupid motive.”_

_She frowned at him. It felt like something was trying to choke her from the inside. “I don’t like it.”_

_“I don’t care,” he said immediately. “My life isn’t important anymore.”_

_“That’s absurd—”_

_“No, it isn’t. Think about it. I’ve already committed myself to killing the mastermind, or dying in the process. If I fail, then there’s no point in me living. But this motive is something that threatens everyone. I’ll sacrifice myself to save everyone else.”_

_She could tell that he had put a lot of thought into this. “Your logic is sound,” she conceded. “But the outcome isn’t. I will not allow it.”_

_“It doesn’t really matter what you think,” he said. “I’m doing it no matter what your response is. I’m only telling you to make sure that Monobear doesn’t interfere. You’ll know the truth of what happened, so you’ll be able to make sure that the trial goes smoothly. I don’t care if you agree with it or not. It’s what’s happening.”_

_Gigi fell silent. In theory, she had an arsenal of ways to combat his plan. She could remove all weapons from his person. She could stay with him at all hours of the day and night. She could tell the other students so they could assist her. She could even tie him up, thereby rendering him immobile. But, in the end, Gigi knew that there was no point in going through with any of them. It would only tire both of them out quicker, resulting in nothing more than a faster ride towards death. The other students were losing their willpower. It was a slow and subtle process, but before long someone would inevitably fall asleep. Enoch’s plan could stop this from happening._

_“Very well,” she said finally. “Should your attempt to kill the mastermind fail, I will accompany you to your… death. If only to make sure that everything goes according to plan.”_

_He nodded, getting to his feet. “Thank you. I’m gonna go get ready. I’ll see you later, I guess.”_

_As she was walking back towards the clearing, she was interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching from the nearby bushes. What followed them was the last voice in the world she wanted to hear—Monobear’s._

_“That was a really interesting conversation that you just had,” he said. She spun around to face him. He was standing a few feet behind her, one paw pressed to his mouth. “I mean, suicide? That’s pretty serious!”_

_Gigi eyed him, tense. This was unusual. Why was he getting involved? “Quite. But it certainly wasn’t against the rules, so I see no reason for you to be concerned.”_

_“Eh?” he cocked his head at her, smile somehow growing wider. “I’m not concerned at all! None of this has anything to do with me, you know. I’m just the mediator. But… I gotta say, it’s gonna be really inconvenient when Enoch dies for no reason.”_

_“What are you talking about?” she snapped. “His death will lead to a trial. Do you plan on extending the motive afterwards?”_

_“No,” he said, looking bemused, though it was clearly an act. “I mean, I just thought it would have been obvious! A suicide doesn’t count as a murder. There’s no need for us to have a trial if he killed himself.”_

_Gigi felt the blood rise to her face. Her neck felt like it was burning. She gripped the handle of her umbrella as though letting go would cause her to slip down into the abyss that was the bear’s words. “And why isn’t this in the rulebook?” she asked._

_He shrugged. “Wasn’t relevant. And, I mean, now that I’ve told you, it still isn’t relevant. Because you’re not going to let him kill himself now! That would just be ridiculous. Upupu._

_“But it’s a shame,” he continued. “Now that there’s no way for Enoch’s plan to work, this motive is going to start killing students off! And to think you had such a great plan. It’s so despair-inducing, isn’t it?”_

_She wanted to grow a pair of fangs and use them to rip his throat out. Instead she just stood there and stared, thankful—not for the first time—that no one could see her eyes. “No response?” he said. “Oh well, I guess I’ll leave you to think about it.”_

_After this conversation with Monobear, Gigi was nigh incapable of retiring to her room. She spent the rest of the day and well into the twilight sitting on a log near the cabins, watching the comings and goings of the other students. Her first thought had been to visit Enoch and deliver the devastating news, but she knew now that it wasn’t a good idea. It would only send him spiraling down a darker and more hideous path than the one he was already on. There was no one to turn to; no easy way to explain that they were utterly, inescapably doomed. The only remaining hope was if Enoch could succeed in his assassination attempt._

_Less than an hour after Monobear made the night time announcement, Gigi heard hurried, burdened footsteps making their way across the clearing. She watched in an aching, sickening silence as Neil approached, carrying a barely-conscious Enoch in his arms. Seeing her, he paused a brief moment to say, “Enoch got in a fight with Monobear. He’s been badly injured. I’m taking him to the infirmary.”_

_“I wish you luck,” Gigi said, watching him go. She made her tone sound light, but her expression was one of illness. Her friend was about to commit himself to a plan that was doomed to fail. And she was the only one who knew. The only one who had even half a chance of turning the tide._

_She figured it was about time she made a house call._

_The catacombs were somehow even darker and colder at night than they were usually, but something about being out of the cameras’ view came as a great comfort to Gigi. The way to Olivia’s room was not familiar to her, but the path had been described to her enough times for the journey to be plausible. At length she found herself in front of the worn wooden door. She hesitated for the briefest of seconds, then lifted up her umbrella and gave the door a few firm knocks._

_To her mild surprise, it didn’t take Olivia long to answer. To her furthered surprise, she found that the girl standing in front of her was in near wraith-like condition; her hair was disheveled and askew, her tired frame leaned heavily against the door, and shockingly-thick gray lines of exhaustion clung to the skin beneath her eyes. Despite all this, however, her attention snapped to focus when she saw Gigi, and she eyed her with a steady, questioning gaze._

_They stared at each other for a moment. Then, on impulse, Gigi forked out a hand. “I’m Gigi Nobbs. I’m not entirely certain as to whether or not you remember me, as we never once talked—quite a shame, in retrospect…”_

_“I remember you,” Olivia said. Then she blinked. “Well, no, I don’t remember you. Our memories were taken. But I remember you from… From before.”_

_“Before you died,” she said, always forward. “Yes. I apologize if I woke you.”_

_Her expression turned vaguely bleary. “You didn’t. I don’t do much sleeping these days. Was there something you needed?”_

_“Yes,” she said, and allowed herself a wry smile. “Unfortunately. I wish we could talk under more favorable circumstances, really I do…”_

_Olivia sighed. “Favorable, it seems, is a word that’s slipped from my dictionary. Nothing could be considered favorable when we’re living in a place like this. Come inside.”_

_The two of them sat down on Olivia’s bed, and over what seemed like an eternity kept separate from the rest of the world, Gigi explained what was happening. It was harder than she expected at first. There was a nuance—an art—to the way she treated others that often made it hard for her to approach her point of view on a subject. She was long since used to dealing with this, but something about the feverish intensity in Olivia’s gaze—the alien circumstances of her very existence—put Gigi off guard. Before long, however, she found herself comfortably retelling the whole of her sickening story._

_As she finished, Olivia leaned back, expression dark. She let out a long breath before saying, “You’re in a hard position. If you don’t interfere, then Enoch dies for no reason, and everyone else follows soon after. If you do, then Enoch will still die, and the fate of the others is left uncertain. You’re damned either way.”_

_“I have to interfere,” she said. “Obviously. There is no other way. The question, of course, is how.”_

_Olivia was quiet for a long, horrible moment. Gigi knew what she was thinking already. She knew what she was thinking because she had spent the last several hours thinking the same thing herself, and by now knew only too well that it was the most favorable option. Not for her—it spelled doom for her. But for the others, it promised another chance at survival._

_“So I’ll have to kill him then,” she said, so Olivia wouldn’t have to._

_The other girl winced, as though she’d been struck. “No, that wasn’t what I—I don’t want you to—I would never…”_

_“It’s the only choice,” she said. “Nearly every other avenue results in everyone dying.”_

_Something hopeless and unexpected slipped across Olivia’s face. “Isn’t it easier to just let everyone die? Isn’t that easier than being responsible for all this bloodshed?”_

_Gigi hadn’t expected her to say such a thing. She stared at the other girl for a long moment. She felt like, if she squinted enough, then Olivia would inevitably fit some sort of mold or description or trope that Gigi could easily understand, rather than continuing to be the scattered enigma that sat before her. But it refused to happen._

_She sighed and said, “This isn’t your fault. Nor is it mine’s. This is the mastermind’s responsibility.”_

_“I know that,” she said, and abruptly stood. “But that doesn’t make it any easier.”_

_“No,” Gigi murmured. “It doesn’t.”_

_“You don’t have to do this,” Olivia said._

_She sighed. “And neither does he. And yet nothing will change his mind. Maybe it’s about time that I exhibited the same sort of resolve.”_

_Late that night, she went out to the boat docks, a coil of wire and a roll of electrical tape looped through one arm. The moon was bright out, and its reflection danced across the water, providing enough light for Gigi as she untied one of the rowboats from its hook on the docks. As she pushed off, she let her oar drift across the surface of the lake, testing the tension that fought back against her before flicking downwards to steer. The night was utterly still, completely unbroken save for the gentle lap of the water against the boat. Even the hum of the electric fence seemed distant and muted._

_To keep from arousing suspicion in Enoch, she had chosen a murder so absurdly complex that he would never see it coming. Unfortunately, this meant that much of the initial steps would be entirely dependent upon how much he trusted her. She was willing to bet that their acquaintanceship had developed far enough. Although he acted as though she were nothing more than a tool for ensuring his success, it meant something that he had specifically chosen her. The irony, she reflected as she rowed, was that his choice would ensure the survival of the other students. Who could say if anyone else would have been tenacious enough to go this far?_

_The other reason she had chosen this murder was because it would be painless. The sword was an unfortunate and unavoidable exception to this rule, but besides that, Enoch would feel nothing. Furthermore, it was fast: one quick touch from the fence, and he would be gone. He would not suffer. He would not hurt. After all he had been through, this was the least he deserved._

_She drove the boat near the shore of the lake for a while before noting a particularly thick patch of reeds along the bank. She was pleased to find that the boat slid easily amongst them, nestling itself against the rocky slope of the shore, nearly invisible from land. Although a few thin slivers of wood were visible between the green of the reeds, one would have to be aware of the boat’s existence ahead of time in order to pick it out. It was the perfect hiding place. She placed the wire and tape beneath a bench and then returned to dry land, picking her way slowly across the uneven rocks. Her trap, as it were, was set. All that was left to do was wait._

_Day three._

_Although she wanted to, Gigi wasted no time. After a quick stop at the cafeteria, she headed over to the infirmary, where she found Enoch sitting in one of the cots, dejected and bandaged in equally extreme measure. He looked up at her in what was almost surprise as she entered. “You showed up.”_

_“Of course I did,” she said, wandering over to one of the cabinets and placing two cups on the shelf._

_“Sorry,” he said, voice scratchy. “I thought you might… I dunno. Flake. Not take me seriously.”_

_“I take death very seriously,” she said as she dropped a hand into one of the cabinets, closed fingers on a bottle of pills, and slipped one of them out. She wished she had something more effective to crush up the pill with, but her own hand would have to do. She broke it up as quickly as she could while plunking a bottle down on the counter at the same time._

_“What are you doing?” he asked from behind her, though as of yet he made no attempt to get out of his cot._

_She let the powdery white bits of Ambien fall into one of the glasses. “I thought you might like a final drink before we go,” she said. “It won’t do you any good to die with a parched throat.”_

_“What’s on the menu?” he asked, tone mildly approving._

_She uncorked the bottle and filled the two glasses with its contents, then took one in each hand. “Apple juice,” she said as she watched the Ambien disappear, then turned to face him. His expression was a frightening mixture of befuddlement and horror. “It was Jae’s favorite, yes?” she asked._

_He blinked. “Yeah. How did you know?”_

_She offered him a lopsided smile. “Do you forget so easily? I’m the one who’s made us breakfast on most mornings. Jae’s first question to me, upon arriving in the cafeteria, was whether or not we had any apple juice. And it was all she drank in my presence from that point forward.”_

_He took the spiked glass from her, looking strangely comforted. “Thanks,” he said, and then downed it._

_“It was no problem at all,” she said before quietly drowning her bitter expression in her own glass._

_After a brief moment of hesitation, she saw him reach for his sword, sheathed at his side—but she quickly put a hand out to stop him. “Wait a moment.”_

_“Please don’t try to talk me out of it,” he said._

_“I wasn’t going to,” she said. “I was just thinking, it would do you no good to die in a place like this. An infirmary? Come now. If you’re going to end your life, at least let it be someplace nice.”_

_“Got anywhere in mind?” he asked._

_“Just one,” she said. “Let’s walk.”_

_She led him out along the paved paths, across the clearing, and out to the lake. It was an unseasonably warm day out, with the plant life drooping and swarms of bugs hovering above the more stagnant patches of water. At the crest of the hill, she could see many of the students gathered along the edge of the shoreline, but they were easily avoided. She took Enoch over a series of rocks impeding the path, then down to the shore, where her boat lay hidden amongst the reeds. There was a large stone nestled in the dirt, in front of the water. He took a seat on it, and she stood nearby._

_They were quiet for some time. Gigi had no desire to speed the process along. “It’s warm out,” Enoch said finally._

_“A nice change,” she murmured. “We are heading towards winter, after all.”_

_“Do you think I’ll see Jae?” he asked. “When I’m dead?”_

_Her hands were shaking. She folded them behind her back. “I don’t know. No one knows. I wish I did, but that’s not possible. I hope you do.”_

_“Okay,” he said. He reached down and pulled his shortsword from its scabbard. He turned it upside down, gripping the hilt tightly, his bad hand pressed down hard against the top. The taut curvature of his arms betrayed a gentle quiver that was running through his frame, and the sharp glint of the blade betrayed the blood that was soon to spill. It seemed as though he was going to say something else, but then he changed his mind. He lifted the blade up, breathing in, preparing to plunge it through his chest._

_She was shaking like a leaf, like a bird in a snowstorm. Time seemed to slow as the blade leapt towards his heart. She almost didn’t stop him. Almost. But then her heart overcame her instinct and she lunged forward, plucking the blade from his hand and shoving him back towards the water. There was a thud and a yelp of surprise from him as he hit the rowboat. She descended before he could react, the shortsword lifted high above her head—and then she slammed it down into his shoulder, stopping only when she heard it find purchase in the boat beneath him._

_Then, silence. She was crouched on top of him in the bottom of the boat, his shoulder pinned down by the sword. He looked up at her in a wild daze. Her mind felt like a wildfire, but the rest of her felt like a block of ice. And then he screamed—a shocked, tortured, horrified sound that might have carried across the whole of the lake if it wasn’t for the fact that his vocal chords were already shattered._

_Gigi didn’t want to hurt him any further, but he had begun writhing, and if she got up there was the looming threat of him escaping. He struggled beneath her, trying to pull an arm free to grab the sword, but to no avail. Both of their thin, wiry frames held a hidden strength, but Enoch’s many injuries had given Gigi the upper hand. A choked gasp escaped him. There was panic in his eyes. “What the fuck are you doing? I was about to kill myself!”_

_“It wouldn’t have worked,” she said, forcing her voice to stay level. “Monobear approached me. A suicide won’t count towards a trial.”_

_The panic in his gaze gradually developed into horror. His eyes darted around—at the boat he was in, at the sword in his shoulder, at Gigi firmly holding him down—as he realized what she was doing. Then his struggling increased tenfold. “So you’re going to get yourself killed over it? No! The whole point of this is that I would be the only person to die.”_

_“It won’t work anymore,” she said. “Don’t you remember, Enoch? You told me your plan so that I could make sure it went smoothly. I’m just doing what you asked for.”_

_“No!” he cried. “This isn’t what I wanted. You idiot! You fucking idiot! Let me go, damnit!”_

_She didn’t respond. Resting along the bottom of the boat was a fishing rod. She picked it up, hoping she might be able to distract herself from his hopeless desperation._

_“Fuck you! Goddamnit, fuck you, I fucking hate you! Let me go. Let me go, you bitch!” His screams would have been piercing if it weren’t for the fact that his throat caught with every other word. Tears pricked at his eyes, and then pooled over. Gigi cast the fishing line over the edge of the boat, but her hands were shaking too badly, so much so that the bobber brought up a miniature wake in the water. She couldn’t get her own head under control. Furious with herself, she reeled in and threw the rod away, out into a pile of grass on the bank._

_Enoch had fallen silent, unable to speak through the blanket of tears running from his eyes, and was focusing all his efforts on trying to get her off of him. He was weakening fast, however, and frustration soon overwhelmed him. Gigi could no longer keep her voice level, but she spoke anyway: “You’ve been drugged. You’ll be unconscious soon.”_

_The hurt in his eyes left her marooned. She looked down as he croaked, “This is what I meant. This is what I fucking meant. No matter what I do, I always end up being useless… and someone always dies because of me…”_

_“You wanted to save everyone,” she said. “So do I. I’m making sure that happens. But your goal hasn’t changed. You aren’t useless. You were the only one… The only one who would willingly give up your life to save the rest of us.”_

_“What does that make you?” he whispered._

_She offered him a weak smile. “A bitch, apparently.”_

_He winced. “That wasn’t what I… I didn’t…” Once more he writhed, but this time the movement was halfhearted. “I just don’t want you to die.”_

_“And I didn’t want you to die,” she said. “But it’s like you said earlier: you can’t change my mind.”_

_He fell silent. He didn’t try to struggle anymore. She leaned back against the side of the boat and looked up towards the pale, choppy blue of the sky. The heat was oppressive, as though clamping down on her, but she didn’t mind much. It did little to rival the storm going on in her head. She kept thinking about how she could still change her mind; how she could still get up and let him go. But she didn’t dare to move. She was committed to this now. It took Enoch another five minutes to lose consciousness._

_In the last minute before he slipped away, he mumbled Gigi’s name, words slurred from exhaustion and inebriation. His gaze was distant, his eyes glassy, but he focused on her regardless. “What is it?” she asked._

_“The other students,” he murmured. “When they died… They were all looking at someone. Olivia was looking at Ryan. Pam was looking at Buck. Ohanzee was looking at Jason. Jae was looking at me. I want to… I want you to look at me.”_

_She had been looking down, gaze burdened with guilt, but she would not allow herself to deny him this. She raised her head and stared into his eyes. “No, not like that,” he said. “You’re not really looking.”_

_Gigi knew what he meant. Part of her had been hoping otherwise, but in the end she didn’t really mind. She ran a hand along the bridge of her nose, reached the base of her goggles, and then pushed them up to her forehead. She squinted involuntarily in the bright sunlight, blinking a few times, and then looked down at him. The light, mossy brown of her eyes pierced the bright blue of his, despite the exhaustion that clouded both of their features._

_Enoch smiled. “Heh… I knew I could get you to take them off,” he said, and then fell asleep._

_She sat there for a moment, listening to the water lapping against the boat, and then silently rose to her feet. She uncoiled the wire, wrapping it in twin branches from the sword’s hilt to the front of the boat, pinning it at both ends with the electrical tape. Her hands didn’t shake anymore, but she still felt afraid. When the boat was ready, she stepped out of it and onto the shore. She couldn’t successfully push it out into the lake with all the reeds in the way, so she had to pull it onto the shore first, which left a fairly obvious track of mud along the bank. She didn’t mind, though. It was just more evidence to help the other students prove her guilt._

_Once the boat was positioned, she pressed both hands to the prow and pushed forward. Just before the water pulled it up from the bottom of the lake, she hesitated, feeling the worn wood beneath her fingers. Enoch looked more relaxed than she had ever seen him before, utterly motionless in the boat, his good hand splayed out the side, fingers drawing ripples in the water. It was a picture that would never leave her. She lowered her head and shoved the boat forward, pushing Enoch out into the water._

_It was done._

_The edge of her vision blurred, making the boat and the water and the tip of Enoch’s hair all run together like paint, dripping off of a bleak and colorless canvas and down into the depths below. She didn’t think she was going to cry. She didn’t fancy herself the crying type. But something about the heat in the air and the bugs in the water and the smile on Enoch’s face before he closed his eyes for the last time got to her, and she couldn’t deny that: just like she couldn’t deny him his final wish, or his plan for suicide, or anything else he asked of her—just like she couldn’t deny herself this murder, or her own latent mercy, or her desperate desire to hide her face from the others because she was afraid of letting too much show. She hadn’t wanted this, but it had happened. And she would take the responsibility._

_She didn’t wait to see him hit the fence. There was no point. She heard the cackle of electricity, however, from where she sat on the rocks: away from the lake, away from the other students. She hated this. She hated the mastermind for what they had done. But, at least they others would survive now. She had given them a fighting chance. There was no room for despair when a hope like that existed._

_Gigi made sure to glare at one of the nearby cameras before putting her goggles back on._

~ ~ ~ ~

            The cat expert kept her story as short and concise as possible, skimming over the parts like her conversation with Olivia, but leaving enough detail for us to understand what she was referring to. I saw dismay painted on the faces of the other students by the time she’d finished, realizing the grave horror of what Gigi had sacrificed for us. A strong part of me wanted to lunge over the podiums and give her a hug. She had doomed herself for our sake, all because Monobear wouldn’t give Enoch the satisfaction of his own demise.

            Gam was giving her podium a death grip. “Gigi… You shouldn’t have…”

            She shook her head rapidly. “Now, now, don’t start with such nonsense. Of course I should have. A good many of you would be dead right now otherwise. I do not regret my decision. I only regret that I will not be there to see what all of you do next.”

            “Gigi…” Calise murmured, voice raptured and heartbroken.

            “Damnit!” Buck slammed a fist into his podium, glaring at Monobear. “Fucking—damnit! This is all your fault, you fucking asshole. It’s all your fault that they’re dead.”

            He shrugged. “I don’t really know what you’re talking about. I mean, it was up to Enoch and Gigi if they wanted to do anything. I didn’t _make_ them do it.”

            “That doesn’t mean you aren’t guilty,” he spat. “That doesn’t mean I’m not gonna fuckin’ ruin you one of these days. You hear me, you fucking asshole? I’m not taking any more of this shit!”

            “Whatever,” he said, waving a paw. “I don’t really want to deal with you right now. Because y’know what? It’s punishment time!”

            Gigi’s smile was a bittersweet one as she looked my way. “Sorry for misleading you during the investigation. It was a necessary evil, I’m afraid.”

            “I…” My throat caught. “I don’t mind.”

            “And I won’t be able to help you during the next trial,” she added. “A shame. Well, perhaps some other time. They say we’ll meet again…”

            A growl rose up out of Monobear’s throat. “Gigi Nobbs has been found guilty. Commencing execution: The Lady or the Tiger.”

            Gigi stalked silently over to the hidden doors as they opened, movements demure. A clamp appeared and hoisted her up, carrying her down into the depths below. The rest of us hurried out onto the balcony, not wanting to lose sight of her.

            Beneath us, the arena had been transformed into what looked like an ancient gladiator’s coliseum, complete with a second balcony where Monobear sat in a regal gold throne. Gigi had been placed in the center of the ring. Opposite Monobear’s balcony, two doors were set into the walls of the coliseum, perfectly alike in every way. Gigi was half-turned to face them, but she kept glancing back to look up at Monobear.

            The bear thumped a fist against his throne and then spoke: “Before you are two doors. Behind one is a lady. Behind the other, a tiger. Choose wisely!”

            She stepped towards the doors, movements hesitant as she studied them. After a moment of consideration she strode up to the door on the right, gripped the handle, and yanked it open. On the other side was a full-length mirror. Gigi’s goggled face stared back at her through the glass—there was no lady. _She_ was the lady.

            She seemed to pause a moment, as though trying to figure out what this meant, but in the next second the mirror had shattered outwards, blown into a hundred miniscule diamond shards by the force of the tiger on the other side. It was wild and snarling, a fiery red mark painted over one eye to match Monobear’s red eye. The beast swatted her with a giant paw, knocking her to the ground and drawing blood all the way from her neck to her hips. I didn’t know much about cat behavior, but I knew that this animal had to be half-starved and feral to charge her so aggressively. My heart twisted in horror.

             It was upon her in the next moment, front claws curled around her shoulders as it prepared to strike the killing blow. She turned her head towards the balcony, seeking our familiar and horrified faces. She offered me a smile. Then the tiger set its jaws around her neck and the world turned red.

            She didn’t make a single sound as it tore into her. For the first time since this campsite massacre had begun, I forced myself to look away. I wanted to be with her in her final moments, but I couldn’t take it anymore. I just couldn’t take it. The ripping sounds alone were too much to bear.

            I don’t know how much time passed before it was over. All I remember was someone touching my shoulder—Haley—and guiding me out of the courtroom towards the elevator. No one spoke a single word. Enoch and Gigi had let themselves die in order to save the rest of us. There was nothing to say.

            At first I thought I might not be able to sleep—the red and the tiger’s teeth kept flashing in my head. But I was so tired from the past three days that I inevitably succumbed to exhaustion. My last thought before falling asleep was that the two of them shouldn’t have bothered: weak people like me weren’t worth saving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I discovered some pretty interesting things about Ambien during my research. For one, it's very fast. Under normal circumstances, it'll be about ten minutes before it takes effect. Its speed was the main reason I chose it. The interesting bit is that this proves Enoch's tenacity--he lasted at least ten minutes (probably a little longer), despite the fact that he was heavily injured and already suffering from sleep exhaustion. Now THAT'S willpower. 
> 
> The other noteworthy thing here is Gigi's execution. It's based off of an old short story called "The Lady, or the Tiger?" by Frank Stockton. It's taught in most schools (that I know of) so many of you have probably heard of it before. If not, [please go read it.](http://www.eastoftheweb.com/short-stories/UBooks/LadyTige.shtml) It's fantastic.  
> At face value Gigi's execution seems pretty straightforward, but the main reason I chose to base it off of this story is because of all the symbolism. In the original story, one of many concepts presented by the author is the idea that the lady and the tiger are one in the same. At first, it seems as though the tiger represents death and the lady represents life, but by the end of the story it seems as though the lady is just a different kind of death, as she requires completely rewriting one's life.  
> I essentially went for the same concept with Gigi's execution. The door she opens has the lady behind it, who is represented as a mirror--Gigi sees herself, so she sees herself as the lady. But she is also the tiger: the tiger is hiding behind the mirror (just as Gigi hides behind her goggles), and when he strikes, the facade that is the lady is destroyed.  
> There's a lot more symbolism to it than that, but I haven't the energy to go on a whole philosophical rant about it. Just go read the short story and you'll see what I mean.


	28. 5.1 "Under New Management"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some say the world will end in fire,  
> Some say in ice.  
> From what I've tasted of desire  
> I hold with those who favor fire.  
> But if it had to perish twice,  
> I think I know enough of hate  
> To say that for destruction ice  
> Is also great  
> And would suffice.
> 
> \--Robert Frost, "Fire and Ice"

CHAPTER 5: THE ASHES

(Ab)normal Days Part 1

            The sun cast a milky white blanket over the landscape, dying the already-stark trees in an even more unsaturated hue. Despite the fact that the weather was supposed to be getting cooler, it was actually growing hotter. It was so warm that the air seemed to have a taste to it, hot and thick against my tongue.

            As usual, we all gathered in the clearing to wait for Monobear’s appearance, certain that he would have a new area available for us. As expected, he did. He led us to the north, past the entrance to the trial room, towards the fourth (and what appeared to be final) path branching off from the clearing. I noticed some immediate differences between it and previous locations. The path leading up to it was much wider, as though fit for a car, and the gate was not like the others: it was old and run down, with vines interlocking through the chain links. The electric fence around it looked to be in the same condition as the others, however. It was clear that this gate had been here for as long as the rest of the property had.

            Monobear pushed it open and stepped out onto the other side, stretching his arms out wide. “Upupu! I think you guys are going to like this one.”

            I looked. Beyond the gate the wide dirt path led, twisting, into a startlingly-large forest, trees clinging closely to the road and roots growing up against the fence. I glanced in both directions, and as far in front of me as I could, but there was no electric fence to be seen. We all looked at Monobear in confusion.

            “What’s the matter?” he asked, playing at churlish. “I thought you guys would be happy that there’s no fence. You can go wherever you like.”

            Gam’s expression was guarded. “But doesn’t that mean we could just leave? That doesn’t sound like something you’d approve of.”

            He snickered. “Well, sure, I guess you could look at it that way. I mean, you could _try_ leaving. But do you really think that’s a good idea? Who knows how big this forest is! You could die before you find anything useful. And who’s to say what’s on the other side of it? There _might_ be civilization, but what if there are plains, or a river, or even a desert? Hey, what if it turns out that this whole place is actually an island? Wouldn’t that be a plot twist!”

            Max narrowed his eyes. “So you’re saying that we can leave, but it’s at our own peril. Is this supposed to serve as our motive?”

            “Yep! That’s right!” he said. “It’s kind of a weird motive, I know, but even with the risks, you all really want to leave, right? Even if you might die of dehydration or starvation or wild animals or some super dangerous mirage!”

            “But there’s still a pretty good chance that we could survive this,” Haley said. “So there’s no way you’re just _handing_ this too us. There’s gotta be a catch. There has to be.”

            He pressed a paw to his mouth. “Alright, alright, you got me. Check your ElectroIDs—I’ve added a new school rule.”

            I quickly pulled mine out and flicked to the appropriate section. There was one new rule waiting for me:

            8. It is against the school rules to take any food, drink, or campsite property off of the premises.

            “I see,” Neil said. I could hear the grimace in his voice. “You’ve given us the option of risking it, but you really mean _risking it._ We’re not allowed to bring anything useful with us.”

            “That’s right,” the bear said. “So it’s up to you, really. Anyway, have fun exploring!”

            After a few exchanges of hesitant glances, we gradually split up to explore this new area. Nervous about wandering too far, I hovered near the gate, looking around. As I stepped further out onto the road, I noticed that there was a large sign hanging over the gate. It was badly damaged, with several dents in it and some of the writing scuffed out. The most I could decipher was “L_n_ Lak_ C__mp___unds.”

            “Something Lake Campgrounds,” a voice mused next to me. I turned to the side to see Gam standing nearby, arms crossed over her chest. “Well, at least we sort of have an idea of where we are now.”

            I heaved a breath. “It’s one step close to getting answers, I guess.”

            She made a face. “They’re toying with us. The mastermind. This stupid, obscure motive, this dumb sign… They’re just trying to fuck with us.”

            “You’re probably right,” I said. “I just hope that no one falls for it.”

            She hesitated for a moment, then slowly shook her head. “No, I don’t think anyone will. But that’s just the problem. All of Monobear’s motives have involved something that at least one person could have easily fallen for. But this one… just doesn’t. It’s just this weird, creepy offer of his. I don’t understand how or why anyone would kill over it… and that makes me nervous.”

            I frowned—that hadn’t occurred to me. “Yeah, that’s a good point. Well… hopefully it’ll end up being pointless. Hopefully no one will kill.”

            “Yeah,” she grumbled. “Hopefully.”

            Loathe to the idea of getting lost, I started out by trying to follow the dirt road extending from the entrance. Out here, I could clearly tell that it was meant for cars—there were even two separate lanes, though the divide between them was nothing more than a slightly elevated ridge of dirt. I followed it for some time, but soon the road was swallowed up by an overgrowth of plant life and lost in a tall series of rocks. I wandered through the nearby forest for a while, trying to find where the road appeared again, but ultimately ended up running into what appeared to be a completely unrelated section of road, much of which was completely eroded. I tried to follow it for a while, but it soon became impossible: trees were growing in the way, and everything seemed to look the same.

            A lump of panic rose in my throat at the possibility of being lost. I tried to backtrack, but it was almost impossible to distinguish my previous path from all of the other possible avenues I could take. The road was simply too damaged to be followed. Relief ran over me in waves when I saw Buck wandering along one side of the road, hands in his pockets. I ran up.

            He glanced back at me as I approached. “Oh, hey Flynt. You takin’ a look around?”

            “I was trying to follow the road,” I said, a little breathless. “But I got lost really quickly. It’s too unkempt to be of any use.”

            He nodded. “I know what you mean. I was following the original strip at the entrance for a while, and when it cut off I tried to follow it in a straight line, but ended up on a road that was facing in almost a completely different direction. This place may as well be a fuckin’ maze.”

            I sighed. “You don’t happen to know the way back, do you?”

            “Maybe… that way?” He pointed. “Maybe. I don’t fuckin’ know.”

            “Thanks anyway,” I said, taking his direction despite his lack of confidence.

            Soon the road disappeared once more. I stuck to my path regardless, weaving in and out of trees, until I stumbled upon another part of the road. I had no way of knowing if this was the same road or not. As I was walking along it, I began to notice that many of the road signs on either side of me had been marked or written over. I paused to read a few of them. Many of the first few read things like “No longer open” or “Facilities unavailable” or “Temporarily closed,” written in Sharpie or scrawled in black paint. As I went further, however, they grew more ominous: “UNSAFE.” “DO NOT SEEK LODGING HERE.” “TURN BACK NOW!”

            Most of these had been written with the same materials, but I soon began to find signs with similar warnings that appeared to have been written in blood. They were slate red and dripping down the bottom of the sign, written by a shaky hand. Oddly enough, the one that unnerved me the most simply read, “Under new management.”

            After the ones written in blood, the signs took on a new attitude. They had been written over in a bright, eye-catching pink color, and clearly done by a different scribe. Their text seemed careless, happy, and unrushed, very much unlike that of the previous writer’s. Their messages were things like, “Now serving despair 24/7!” or “Drop by for some fun” or “You’re not scared, are you?” Many of them featured emoticons or little caricatures of wildly-smiling Monobears. The more and more I read, the more and more on edge I became.

            Suddenly a voice hissed in my ear. “Curious, isn’t it?”

            Feeling like I was going to pass out from the sudden shot of adrenaline to my system, I wheeled around to see Max standing there, expression as benign as ever. “Jesus, Max!” I yelped. “Don’t scare me like that!”

            “Calm down,” he said. “I’ve been here for some time, you know. It’s not my fault if you don’t notice.”

            “Still…” I said. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

            He made a face, but didn’t appear to be all that offended. “Anyway. I wanted to ask you about this place. Don’t you think that this new area has something unique about it? Besides the obvious, of course.”

            I blinked. “Besides the obvious? I’m not sure I follow.”

            He flicked his eyes upward, nodding in his line of sight. “Look at the trees. The signposts. There are hardly any cameras to be seen.”

            I looked up towards the sky and turned in a slow circle, scanning the area around us. I saw one camera, but it was far off and not even pointed our way. We were completely invisible, at least for the moment. “Huh, you’re right,” I said. “That’s… really odd.”

            “I have theories,” he said. “Perhaps the mastermind ran out of cameras. Or maybe there was a reason that they couldn’t put cameras up here. I think it’s more likely, however, that they did this on purpose.”

            “What do you mean?” I asked.

            “They want to have deadzones,” he murmured. “Places that appear to be safe areas where we can talk openly. It could be a strategy to draw us out into the open and keep us in check.”

            “But wouldn’t that only work if they had secret cameras up?” I said. “And that doesn’t seem likely to me.”

            “I agree with you,” he said. “And thus, it remains a mystery. Something to keep in mind, I suppose.”

            “Thanks,” I said.

            At length, I abandoned the road entirely, hoping to better understand the layout of this new area simply by traversing it blindly. I didn’t have much confidence in the strategy to begin with, and it ultimately left me feeling more confused than I’d been before. There was very little appeal in staying in this part of the campsite. It was far too easy to get lost. Unless I was planning on trying to leave, the threat of being unable to find my way back to the main area was far stronger than my desire to explore.

            I next stumbled upon a small series of breaks in the trees, where patches of ground had been cleared. In many of them were broken-down grills or battered metal trash cans. After wandering through a few of them, I realized that they must have been plots of land set aside for trailers or campers. They looked positively desolate now.

            “Hey, Flynt!” A voice called. “Over here!”

            I turned. Neil was leaning against a tree on the edges of one of the plots, arms crossed over his chest as he eyed me. I walked over to him. “Hey. What’s up?”

            “Not much, really,” he said. “This new place is kinda interesting, isn’t it? I mean, these places must have been used a lot back when there were other people here. I wonder what happened to all of them.”

            “Probably nothing good,” I said, thinking of the road signs.

            He nodded, demeanor rapidly changing to something deep and morose. “Sort of like what happened to our friends, right?” A sigh escaped him. “I wish I could have saved Enoch. I guess I’m not trying hard enough.”

            “I think you’re trying pretty hard,” I said. “I mean, you defended him against Monobear. I half expected him to kill _both_ of you at that point. But he didn’t. And then you took care of him at the infirmary. I mean, what else could you have done?”

            He shrugged, making a face. “No, you’re right. I don’t know. I guess I’m just beating myself up over it. When I was taking him to the infirmary that night, I saw Gigi sitting outside. I told her what was going on and she didn’t seem to be acting out of the ordinary, but… but maybe, if I’d been paying closer attention… I don’t know.”

            I shook my head. “Really. You did your best.”

            “If you say so,” he murmured. “Thanks, Flynt.”

            Wandering through a few more of the trailer plots led me to a small fire pit where Haley was crouched, poking at the bits of dirt and rock inside. She looked far more upset and brooding than usual, which concerned me greatly. “Hey,” I said. “You okay?”

            She glanced up, expression absent. “Oh, hello Flynt. Yeah, I’m okay. Just thinking about things.”

            “Like what?” I asked, crouching next to her.

            “This new motive,” she said. “It’s very troubling. Not only because of how open-ended it is, but also because the mastermind would choose to do it in the first place. It seems like a really dangerous move on their part.”

            “I agree,” I said. “In fact, I was thinking about it earlier. Sure, it would be really dangerous for one of us to try and leave—especially without any supplies—but the time we’ve spent here has been terrible. I think a lot of people would feel like it’s worth the risk.”

            “I don’t,” she said, blunt, then immediately went back to looking troubled. “But I’m not so sure if anyone else would feel the same way. Maybe that’s why they chose this? So we would fall into chaos…”

            I laid a hand on her shoulder. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I won’t be trying to leave any time soon. So at least you don’t need to worry about me.”

            She smiled lightly. “Thanks.”

            I soon found myself back on the road, eager to re-enter the campsite. Although this new area was intriguing, it was also troubling and dangerous. I wasn’t interested in staying any longer than I already had. On the way, however, I encountered Calise walking along the road as well.

            “Hey,” I said, stepping up to match her pace.

            She blinked up at me. “Oh, hi Flynt. Are you exploring?”

            “I was,” I said. “I’m trying to get back now. Do you know the way?”

            “I don’t think anyone does,” she murmured. “But we can try to find it together, if you want to.”

            “Sounds like a plan to me,” I said, smiling at her.

            We walked in silence for a few minutes. Her arms were loose at her sides, occasionally stirring up the frills of her dress. She seemed fidgety, but not upset in any way. I searched the trees for a good conversation topic, but found nothing worthwhile.

            “Are you going to try to leave?” she asked suddenly.

            “Huh?” I said. “No, not at all. It seems way too risky to me. And honestly… look at us. I don’t think there’s anyone left in this group who would really go so far as to kill.”

            “Hmm…” she murmured. “I would have said the same thing back when there was sixteen of us. And each consecutive time after that. But in every situation, I turned out wrong.”

            “That’s… true enough,” I said slowly. “But… It feels different to me this time. Something’s changed. I can’t say what.”

            She nodded. “Maybe you’re right.”

            Sure enough, after a few more minutes of walking, the big archway over the entrance to the campsite could be seen. Calise beamed at me as I heaved a sigh of relief. “We made it!” she said.

            “Good work,” I said to her.

            I was about to follow her back inside when I felt something hit my back. I spun around to see a rock rolling across the dirt behind me, then looked up to find the assailant. I only just saw the flicker of a pair of eyes studying me from within the thick of the trees. Intrigued, I quickly chased after them.

            The hunt led me to a small clearing not too far away, hidden from the entrance by the rows of trees behind me. There were trees all around me, but the area where I stood was clear and clean save for the bed of pine needles beneath my feet. A figure in a long black cloak was standing nearby. There were no cameras in our vicinity.

            The figure pushed back the hood of her cloak, but I already knew it was Olivia. She had been wearing the same one during the masquerade party, and I recognized the black leather of her boots. She eyed me darkly as I walked up. “Hi,” I said. “Are you sure it’s safe to be out here?”

            “I’ve been looking around for cameras,” she said. “There are very few in this area, and plenty of safe places where I can be out in the open.” She glanced to the side and then took a breath. “It’s nice to have some fresh air.”

            “How did you get over here without being seen?” I asked.

            “Secret passage,” she said, gesturing off to the side. “There’s a grate hidden beneath some bushes that leads back down into the catacombs. I’m finding more and more of them every day.”

            “That’s… convenient,” I said.

            “Are you suspicious?” she said. “I don’t blame you. But then again, I’m pretty sure that the mastermind personally built those catacombs. It makes sense that they would have constructed them for ease of access.”

            “I’m surprised that you aren’t more restricted then,” I murmured.

            “Me too,” she said. “But it could also be by design. Maybe they want me to see all of these things. Maybe they wanted you to find me again. Maybe I’m playing right into the mastermind’s hands. I don’t know.”

            I was about to respond, but then the branches nearby rustled and Max stepped out of them. His gaze flicked rapidly between the two of us, looking more than a little surprised. “I was… looking for you,” he said to me. “I wanted to talk to you… about Olivia.”

            Her expression was hard to read, but her tone stayed light. “Gossiping about me, then?”

            “I was just going to discuss your memories,” he said hurriedly, eyes plaintive and seeking. “There must be a way to get them back.”

            “You keep saying as much,” she said. “Does this mean you have a plan in mind?”

            “I’m working on it,” he murmured. “Do you… trust me?”

            She was quiet for a second too long. “I don’t know, Max. I can’t remember.”

            I shifted, shoes crunching against the dirt, staring at the two of them. Max seemed to recall my existence, because he looked up at me and then away from both of us. After a short and uncomfortable moment, Olivia glanced my way. “I should probably go anyway. I just wanted to test exactly how much secrecy we have out here. And it appears to be quite a lot. I’ll talk to you all later.”

            Max watched her go, expression terse. I stared at him. He soon wheeled around to face me. “I can help her, Flynt. I know I can. Once she remembers… we’ll be able to get some answers when she remembers.”

            “What do you mean?” I asked.

            “Think about it,” he said. “There has to be a reason that the mastermind chose to make her forget everything, but let me remember our relationship. There has to be a reason that Jason seemed to be so angry with her. There has to be a reason that Gigi chose to talk with her, of all people. None of this is happenstance or coincidence. It has to be deliberate. And if she remembers, then we’ll know why.”

            “We’d probably get the exact same thing from learning your title,” I reminded him.

            “Yes, I know,” he said. “I’m… I’m working on it. I just need to know that you’re going to support me.”

            I blinked. “Why me? And what do you mean by that?”

            “I could use someone trustworthy like you, Flynt,” he said. “And… I don’t know what’s going to happen over the next couple of days. I need you to have my back.”

            “I’ll try my best,” I said.

            “Thank you,” he said, and was gone.

            Something about Max’s determination left me feeling agitated. It was good that he wanted to do this, but it could end up causing us more trouble than we were already in. Then again, it was important that Olivia recovered her memories. I couldn’t say for sure what was right. Feeling even more confused and uncertain than I had before, I slowly made my way back into the campsite proper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to Archive user Cythro for coming up with Ryan's execution name, "Last Wrongs." His contribution has been edited into the appropriate chapter. 
> 
> We've now a complete view of the campsite. But it is a little confusing, so I think I might make a map at some point. Maybe.


	29. 5.2 "The Calm"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We actually manage to finish two free time arcs this time around.

(Ab)normal Days Part 2

            That morning, I wandered out towards the lake, looking for someone to talk with. I found Gam walking around nearby the stables, hands shoved in her pockets and expression meandering. I approached with as friendly a demeanor as I could, hoping she might be interested in having some company.

            “Hey Flynt,” she said, tone bright. “You look bored. Wanna go fishing or something?”

            “Are there even any fish out there?” I asked.

            She shrugged. “Dunno. Gigi seemed to think so. It’s worth a try either way.”

            Out there, I felt like the two of us had grown closer. We didn’t succeed in catching any fish, but the we had fun regardless. The heat made us quit much earlier than we’d originally anticipated, however. As we walked into the storage room I stretched, trying to shake the warm from my limbs. “Why do you think it’s so hot out?” I asked. “I thought we were close to the end of fall.”

            “We are,” she said, frowning lightly. “Sometimes it gets really hot right before a storm. You know, because all the moisture goes up into the clouds.”

            “You think it’s going to rain or something?” I said.

            “It might,” she said. “That would be kind of nice, actually. Give everyone a chance to cool off, or whatever. And I’ve always liked the rain. Gives me a good excuse to stay inside and do absolutely nothing.”

            I snickered. “So is that what ‘Gam Ponytore’ is all about? Doing nothing?”

            “Oh hell yes,” she said. “Undoubtedly so. The more I can avoid doing work, the better. And anyway, when I’m stuck inside, that means I can play video games. I’m a big fan of video games, you know.”

            “I didn’t know that, actually,” I said.

            She wiggled her shoulders a little, as though trying to look indifferent. “I’ll play whatever I can get my hands on, really. Even if it’s the bad stuff. Video games have always been fun for me.”

            I grinned. “Does the _other_ Gam feel the same way? The one that won’t reveal her name?”

            “’Other Gam’?” she scoffed. “Please. Just ‘cause I won’t give away my name doesn’t mean I’ve got some kind of personality disorder or something. There aren’t two different Gams.”

            “Sorry,” I said. “I guess that was kind of going out on a limb.”

            “A little,” she said, then shook herself. “Yeah, all versions of me like video games. A Gam that doesn’t like video games isn’t a Gam at all. That Gam is lying, and you should not trust them.”

            I allowed myself a small laugh, grinning at her. She studied me, expression critical. “Seriously though,” I said. “I’m really curious about this name thing. Will we ever find out what the real one is?”

            She seemed to hesitate. “Eh… there’s some people I might tell. It’s… It’s private information, you know?”

            “Yeah,” I said. “Who would you tell? If you don’t mind me asking.”

            “Olivia,” she said almost immediately. “I mean, if she were still alive, of course. I also probably wouldn’t have tried killing her. See, I didn’t really know her at the time, and I chose her based on panic and a rash judgment. She isn’t what I thought she was. Er… What I mean by that is that I don’t think she would be what I thought she was. If she was still alive.” She ended with a small cough.

            I nodded, skimming over the awkward pauses in her lies. “I understand what you mean. And she does seem like the kind of person who you could trust with that information.”

            “Yeah.” She paused for a moment, as though something had just occurred to her. “And, um… Well, maybe I would tell you. Maybe. I don’t know. You seem like a pretty trustworthy guy, despite the awkwardness and stupid fuckin’ hairdo.”

            “Thanks,” I said. “I think.”

            She snickered. “Nah, really. I mean it. I trusted you with the traitor thing, after all, and that hasn’t come back to bite me in the ass yet, so it was probably a smart move. I’m just… I’m just not ready to tell anyone, I guess.”

            I was going to respond, but then she continued: “It’s kinda weird to think that we’ve had our memories stolen. Like, maybe the me that already knew you guys would have told you. Maybe she already did. When I think of it that way, it sort of makes me _want_ to tell you, but… but it kinda creeps me out, too. I dunno.”

            “It’s okay,” I said quickly. “I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

            She shook her head, a small smile playing at her lips. “Can it, Flynt. I’m not some special needs case. Jesus, do you worry or what?”

            She was gone before I could get another word in. I leaned against the counter, frowning at the doorway that she’d disappeared through. Gam was certainly a puzzle. The more she opened up, the more she seemed to shut down. It was hard to understand how she was feeling. I left the lake, lost in thought.

~ ~ ~ ~

            That afternoon, I found Haley lounging nearby the pool, expression tired and distant. I hesitated to approach her at first, but finally forced myself to walk up and tap her on the shoulder. When she looked up at me, she didn’t seem upset or bothered in any way. “Hi,” I said. “I was wondering if you wanted to hang out for a little while.”

            She shrugged. “Sure. Let’s go on a walk.”

            I spent some time with Haley walking in the forest and talking about the campsite. We tried to come up with theoretical histories for what had happened to this place, but nothing seemed to stick, and neither of us were very serious about the conversation. I felt like we’d grown closer. At one point, she stopped near the clearing, a small frown playing on her face.

            I studied her. She seemed troubled and distracted. “Are you okay?” I asked.

            She looked like she was going to say something but then stopped herself, awash with hesitation. “Um… There’s something I want to talk to you about. Do you think you could meet me in my cabin?”

            “Uh, sure,” I said, taken aback. She left without another word, actions rushed and almost nervous. What could she possibly want to talk to me about that required going to her cabin? Feeling a strange mixture of humbled and concerned, I quickly made my way over.

            She answered almost immediately when I knocked on the door. Eyes darting back and forth to check that no one else was around, she grabbed my arm and pulled me inside. I blinked, eyes adjusting to the dim lighting. Her room was neat and immaculately tidy, much unlike mine. She had a handful of dark green composite bows stacked neatly against the back wall, with a cardboard box full of arrows and two quivers nearby. Everything was organized, labeled, and structured. I stared.

            “Thanks for coming,” she said. I could sense how uncomfortable she was by the tone of her voice. She stepped in front of me and then turned to face me.

            “Er… what did you want to talk about?” I asked.

            She took a deep breath. “Okay, uh… This is gonna be really hard for me to say. It might be kind of shocking. Please try not to freak out or get upset or anything.” She took another deep breath. “I’m… actually a huge weeaboo.”

            I stared. She stared. I busted up laughing.

            “H-Hey!” she stammered. “Th-That’s not—Stop it!”

            “I… I’m sorry!” I breathed, struggling to get myself under control. “Really, I am. It’s just—I thought you were about to tell me something really serious and bad…”

            “It _is_ serious and bad!” she said, rubbing her arm as though I’d punched it. “I’m supposed to be a focused and committed master of archery, but instead I spend half my time getting distracted by anime and manga. I-It’s deplorable!”

            “Deplorable?” I echoed. “I think you’re blowing this out of proportion, personally.”

            She was quiet for a moment, frowning at the carpet. “It’s different for someone like Calise, whose talent involves stuff like that. For me, it really is unacceptable. I’m supposed to spend my time training and conditioning myself for tournaments. But… I’m not.”

            My breathing slowed. She really did look hurt. “I… Hey, I didn’t…” I shook my head. “I’m sorry for laughing. I think I understand where you’re coming from. But I still think you’re being too hard on yourself. It’s important to focus on your archery, yeah, but it’s also important to have something else to do that you enjoy. And if that thing is anime, then that’s fine.”

            She stared at me for a moment, then looked away, sighing. “I… guess you’re right. I don’t know. I just feel guilty every time I enjoy myself, you know? Even… Even when I’m doing my archery, something feels off. Like it’s not right. Like I’m not doing what I was made to do, even though it’s my talent.”

            “Well I certainly don’t think that’s the fault of anime!” I said, spluttering. “It sounds like a completely separate problem to me.”

            “You really think so?” she said.

            “Yeah, I do.”

            Her shoulders lowered. “Well… Maybe you’re right. I need to think about this. Thank you for letting me tell you, Flynt.”

            “It was no problem,” I said.

            Once outside again, I paused to glance back at Haley’s cabin. She was an easily-troubled person, who spent far too much time worrying about herself and her friends. But she was good-natured at heart, and I was happy that I’d taken the time to get to properly know her.

~ ~ ~ ~

            A few hours before Monobear’s nighttime announcement, I found myself once again thinking about Olivia and her missing memories. I didn’t know what Max had planned, but I did know that I wanted to help the process along as best I could. Deciding that it would be a good idea to pay Olivia a visit and see what I could discover about the specifics of her amnesia, I descended down into the catacombs.

            I was approaching her door when I saw that it was already cracked open. Concern bloomed immediately in my chest; was she in danger? Was the mastermind here? I crouched outside of the door, sidling up to the wall to listen.

            “…to fix everything,” she was saying, voice soft. “I know you mean, well, but… Maybe you’re trying a little too hard, is all.”

            Someone sighed in response, so soft that I almost didn’t hear it. “I know it’s… hard for you to understand what I’m doing when you don’t even remember me, but this is the right thing. I know that because the old you would have encouraged it.”

            “Max…” she was quiet for a moment. “I don’t think the old me holds much sway over this situation anymore.”

            “I wish the current you would tell me what she’s thinking, then,” he said, voice tart, but not unkind.

            “She’s thinking that all this would be a lot easier if our lives weren’t constantly threatened,” I heard her say.

            “That’s exactly why I’m saying that we need to get out of here,” he murmured. “Listen, my plan could plausibly work, and you know it. I just need to talk with the other students about it tomorrow. Will you just let me do this?”

            She sighed. “You’re a persistent one, aren’t you? I can see why I liked you so much.”

            “I-Is that flirting?”

            “Might be.” I could hear the grin in her voice. It made me smile, too.

            “Well, I…” Max trailed off, his sudden flustered attitude catching me off guard. I wanted to peek around the crack in the door, but I was too worried about being seen.

            “Yes, Max, you can talk to the others,” Olivia said. By her tone it seemed as though she was taken aback by his sudden change as well. My grin widened—he really had to like her to be broken down that easily. “But… try not to get your hopes too high. My memories shouldn’t be your main concern, anyway. We’ve got a lot bigger problems to deal with.”

            “I know,” he said after heaving a big breath. “And I bet you we can solve many of those problems once we know what the mastermind made you forget. I’m going to prove that to you. As well as myself. I promise.”

            As he said this, his voice gradually grew louder: he was approaching the door. Not daring to let myself get caught, I quickly scrambled around the corner and took off, not bothering to hear Olivia’s response or the sound of Max heading my way. I hadn’t completed my objective for going down into the catacombs, but I had a strong feeling that what I’d found instead was something much better.

~ ~ ~ ~

            The next morning I woke to see that a group meeting was going on in the cafeteria. Max was sitting on one of the tables, hands gripping it tightly as he studied the other students. I entered as quietly as I could and took a seat near the back, eager to not interrupt him.

            “…And as a group, there is a much better chance of survival,” he was saying. “In fact, I would almost argue that survival is guaranteed. We make a large enough party together that we would be able to successfully delegate tasks and split up in necessary situations. This is easily the best chance for mutually-assured survival.”

            Buck made a face. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s a pretty good idea, but… I don’t think Monobear’s gonna allow it. It makes things too easy.”

            “Nowhere in the rules does it say that a plan like mine isn’t allowed,” he said, frowning slightly.

            “I guess…” he muttered. “Personally I think the better strategy would be to live off of the land. We could hunt and forage and shit. Relying on Monobear in any way is just a bad idea.”

            “Um, I’m not sure if there are any animals,” Calise said. “And I don’t think we’d be able to identify dangerous plants and stuff. We’re not exactly survivalists, Buck…”

            He blinked at her. “Oh, yeah. Huh.”

            “Um, could someone fill me in on what’s going on here?” I asked.

            Haley turned to face me. “Max has come up with a strategy for how we could explore outside of the campsite,” she said. “He thinks we should individually explore as far as we can each day, then return at night and send someone else out the next day. I… personally think it sounds kind of dangerous.”

            “I’m sorry but I’m with Haley on this one,” Calise added. “It’s a nice idea, but to me it just sounds like a lot of trouble. We have a better chance if we stay here.”

            “Here isn’t safe,” Neil said. “I’m a little worried about getting into danger as well, but I think risking it is a lot better than staying here.”

            Buck grimaced. “I’m not risking going out there unless we have a reliable gameplan and supplies. And we don’t have either.”

            Gam nodded. “I’m with him. This shit’s way too vague to even be considered. Who knows what’s out there?”

            I glanced at Max. He looked irritated, his lips folded into a thin line. “We’re stuck here,” he said. “Both literally and figuratively. If we don’t get out of this place, then we’re never going to proceed forward. We will never solve a single mystery or stop a single death. This is our only hope for success.”

            Many of the others looked down, uncomfortable. His eyes shot my way. I hesitated, remembering what I’d said to him yesterday. “Well… I-I don’t know, Max. I think you’re idea is great. But if everyone isn’t on board, then it would probably be a bad idea to try going through with it.”

            He looked away with a grimace, closing his eyes. “I… suppose you’re right. I will have to adopt a new means of salvation, then.”

            After the meeting had dispersed, I caught up to Max as he exited the cafeteria. It looked like he was deep in thought. “Hey,” I said. “I’m sorry for not totally supporting you back there. I just… I want everyone to stay safe. And that didn’t seem like our safest choice.”

            He shrugged, movements stiff. “Perhaps you’re right. It doesn’t matter much anyway, as I have a back-up plan.”

            “What’s that?” I asked.

            “Don’t worry about it,” he said, and walked off.

~ ~ ~ ~

            Later that day I wandered over to the training room where I found Buck standing next to a row of wooden practice swords, glaring at them. He glanced up as I wandered over, expression softening slightly but eyes still dark. “You think you can actually learn how to protect yourself using this kinda shit?” he asked me.

            “I don’t know,” I said, keeping my expression as neutral as possible. “We could always try it out.”

            I spent some time sparring with Buck. He was an aggressive fighter, and I was more than a little nervous about getting some serious injuries at several points during the routine, but it was still pretty fun. I felt like we’d gotten a little closer. Afterwards we sat outside, watching the campsite in silence.

            I was trying to think of something to say when he turned to eye me. “Hey, Flynt. I got a question.”

            “Yes?” I asked.

            “You, uh… You think we’re ever gonna get out of here?”

            I blinked. “Um… Yes, I do. It might take time, but I know we’ll get out of here. It’s just a matter of exposing this mastermind’s secrets.”

            “Hmm,” he grunted. He was quiet for a moment. “Do you think you could meet me back at my cabin in a few? I got somethin’ I want to talk to you about.”

            “Okay,” I said. I watched him go, more than a little surprised. Buck didn’t seem like the type to want to talk about _anything,_ let alone in private. Clearly, whatever this was, it was important to him. I headed over as quickly as possible, being sure to knock on the door.

            “Come in,” he said. I pushed the door open, stepping gingerly inside. Buck’s cabin seemed, at first glance, to be fairly clean, but closer inspection proved this to be nothing more than a façade. His bed was unkempt, the sheets and pillows all pushed aside into one corner, and his backpack was lying open on the table, the contents strewn about like the entrails of a slain animal. Most of his visible possessions consisted of hunting supplies, like knives, rope, snares, and even a bulletproof vest. I couldn’t help but gawk.

            “What’s the matter?” he asked, then glanced around. “Alright, yeah, I know it’s a fuckin’ mess, but it’s not that bad. Give me a break.”

            “No, it’s…” I sighed. “It’s nothing. Sorry. What did you want to talk to me about?”

            He was silent for a moment, staring at me with narrowed, morose eyes. I resisted the urge to shift in place, standing by the doorway. After several painful seconds, he looked away and said, “I wanted to thank you, I guess.”

            “Huh?” My eyes went wide. “For what?”

            “For listening to me when I was talking about Nikita,” he said. “She’s kind of a sore subject for me and it’s… not really a story I’m used to telling. So, um. The way you handled it. That was cool of you or whatever.”

            I stared, taken aback. “Really? You seemed upset with me after that conversation. You stormed off, actually.”

            “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not exactly a conversationalist,” he spat.

            “S-Sorry,” I said quickly. “You’ve got a point. I keep forgetting the whole Super High School Level Recluse thing.”

            “Good,” he growled. “Great, actually. I wish everyone would just fuckin’ forget about it.”

            “What do you mean?” I asked.

            He sighed. “It’s…” he sighed again. “I’ve never understood why I got placed as a recluse. I mean, yeah, I hate people and I’m real good at getting away from them, but… that’s not what I wanted out of my life. I wanted to have friends and be, like, good at talking and shit. And instead I get… praised for being a failure.”

            I was surprised at myself for having never seen things this way before. When he said it like that, it seemed like the obvious reaction. “I’m sorry, Buck. What did you want to be?”

            He shrugged, glancing around us. “Super High School Level Hunter? Weapons Master? Tactical Some-shit-or-another? I don’t know. Somethin’ better than Recluse, at least.”

            I was silent for a moment, considering. “Well, here’s what I say. You may have been chosen as a recluse, but that doesn’t mean you’re stuck that way. In fact, with recluse being such an obsolete talent, I think it’s pretty likely for people to notice your other skills. I don’t think you’ll be stuck as a recluse forever.”

            “Really?” he eyed me. “Well… Thanks, Flynt. That’s, um. That’s good of you.”

            He didn’t say anything else, and I got the distinct impression that it was my cue to leave. As I backed out of the room, I couldn’t help but be surprised by how much I had learned about Buck. Despite his generally aggressive and dismissive attitude, he actually possessed quite the soft side. I felt like I’d gotten to know him better than most other students did.

~ ~ ~ ~

            That afternoon, wandering around the clearing, I was deeply startled to find Max lounging on the roof of the gift shop, chin resting in his palms. I stared up at him in shock, but he didn’t seem too deeply perturbed, so I eventually opted to call up to him. “What are you doing?”

            He glanced down at me. “Oh, hello Flynt. I was just resting up here. Was there something you needed?”

            “Er, no, I just…”

            “Would you like to hang out?” he said.

            I ended up spending some time with Max. He tried to show me the easiest way to climb up onto the rooftops, but it wasn’t very agile and I ended up getting confused. He was surprisingly good at it. Despite my limitations, I felt like we’d grown a little closer. Afterwards, he led me down into the catacombs, seemingly not interested in talking if Monobear was going to be listening.

            “So what were you doing up on the roof, anyway?” I asked.

            He stared at me, eyes lowered coolly. “I like high vantage points. They come as a sort of… comfort to me. I can see across the whole clearing from there. It puts me in a position of power, I guess. I apologize if I startled you.”

            “No, I was fine,” I said. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”

            He nodded absently. We were silent for some time, which made me nervous that I wasn’t saying enough, but he seemed to be quite content, so I tried to push that idea out of my mind. At length, he spoke. “What do you think of the… situation that I’m in with Olivia?”

            “You mean the missing memories?” I asked.

            “Yes,” he said. “It… makes me seem sort of foolish, doesn’t it? The girl I love doesn’t even remember me.”

            “No, I don’t think so at all,” I said. “I think the opposite, actually. I mean, in a situation like that, most people would have just given up. But you’re sticking to it. You believe in your relationship with her. That means you must really love her.”

            His expression was wary. “That’s… perceptive of you. Yes, I… There is nothing in this world that I love more.”

            “Can you tell me more about her?” I asked.

            He hesitated, but only for the briefest of moments. “Back when we were properly dating, she was the light of my life. Even before then, really. I always knew that I liked her and looked up to her, but it didn’t hit me how _strongly_ I felt until well into our relationship. And then it turned out that she felt the same way. I didn’t even know that was possible. I didn’t know I could have a person as amazing as her. It’s like she isn’t even real.”

            “How so?” I asked.

            “I…” His expression turned suddenly pained and he squeezed his eyes shut in a grimace. “I can’t remember. I can’t… ugh. Monobear has taken so much of us. _The mastermind_ has taken so much of us. How am I supposed to even know who I am if I can’t remember these things?”

            “I think we get along pretty well,” I ventured. “But then again, I don’t have to deal with the sort of emotions that you’re going through. I can see how it’s tough.”

            “I just want her back, Flynt,” he said softly. “What we had was irreplaceable. She… she did so much for me. I wasn’t always as… composed as I am now. She helped me become the person that I am today.”

            “Maybe that’s why the mastermind took her memories away,” I said. “Because it means so much to you.”

            “Yes, that must be _a_ reason,” he said. “But it’s not the only reason. There has to be more. I can feel it. I… I have to get her back.”

            “And I hope you do,” I said.

            After we were finished talking, I headed back up to the surface and glanced skyward to see that the sun had long since set. It was about time to head back to my cabin. Head swimming with thoughts about Max and what he was trying to do, I made my way towards my bed. And hopefully a night of sleep as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This marks the one and only time that I actually went against the wishes of the free time person and did something completely different from what they wanted. Haley had requested something a bit less "revealing", but I like this much better. Her character finally makes sense to me.


	30. 5.3 "The Storm"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I almost don't want to post it. I could almost end the story right here.
> 
> But that wouldn't be very fun, now would it?

(Ab)normal Days Part 3

            It turned out that I wouldn’t be getting any sleep that night.

            I sat up in bed, staring at the barely-visible, worn wood of the ceiling for at least a few hours after the nighttime announcement. For whatever reason, I was simply incapable of getting to sleep. Restlessness rapidly turned into boredom, and I recalled Gam’s tree climbing escapades on the first night of the no-sleep motive. Figuring it was better than nothing, I got out of bed and made my way out into the dark.

            Much of the path was sheltered by the long, reaching shadows of trees, but exposed slivers were caught in the moonlight, bright and glistening like open wounds. Crickets chirped dully in the nearby brush. It was muggy and oppressive out, as though the very air was tugging on my skin, trying to pull me back. Something about the open, star-specked sky made me feel incredibly content. I almost didn’t notice the shadow wicking away at the top of the path.

            But I caught it nonetheless. Someone—or something—was running up the opposite end of the clearing, sticking to the shadows. They made absolutely no noise. It was out of sheer luck that I’d even managed to see them at all. I watched in silence as they reached the side of the cafeteria, paused to glance behind them, and then proceeded forward.

            Curiosity overcame my wariness. Trying to keep the crunching of my footsteps muted, I trotted to keep up with them, keeping as large of a distance between us as I could manage. They moved past the cafeteria, out into the grass area behind the clearing, heading towards the campsite’s exit. My heart leapt into my throat. Were they going to try and leave? Who was it?

            Just as I’d expected, they reached the campsite’s main entrance and slipped through. Now that they were out of sight, I bolted to catch up, head pounding. The big sign above the entrance stood out like a beacon in the moonlight. I reached its base and stood beside it, peering around the corner. I could see nothing but trees and the hard, beaten path leading from the campsite.

            I spent a brief moment hovering there in hesitation. The figure could have gone in any number of directions. I would lose precious time if I waited any longer, but I would lose even more time if I went in the wrong direction. My indecision turned out to be a blessing, however—had I made my move any sooner, I wouldn’t have seen the distinct shape of a cloak buffeting in the wind nearby.

            I recognized that cloak. It was the one Olivia had worn during the masquerade party, and in this same forest two days prior. It seemed as though the figure and I were not alone.

            Sticking to the trees, I followed her path only a little deeper into the trees until I found myself at the farthest fringes of the forest clearing where Max, Olivia and I had been talking before. The girl herself was walking slowly towards the center of the clearing, head swiveling beneath her hood in suspicion. I was several tree-lengths away from the edge of the clearing, but a bed of pine needles and sticks covered the ground in front of me, so I didn’t dare to move any closer. I would make too much noise.

            The figure that I had followed here then emerged into the clearing. The piercing on his lip glinted in the moonlight, and I knew then that it was Max. He ran up to Olivia, motions urgent and tense, and she took a step back, still wary. I was too far away to hear what they were saying. I shifted a foot in the dirt, hoping to wiggle closer, but the movement brought up an audible rustling from the undergrowth, and I didn’t dare to try anything that would get their attention.

            He reached out and gently took her arm. Olivia didn’t resist him. He was explaining something, free hand gesturing with barely-controlled fervor at his side. The more and more he spoke, the more and more she seemed to adopt the same tense urgency that plagued his movements. She pulled her hand away abruptly, stepping back. She looked afraid. Fear didn’t suit her well at all, and my first instinct was that I was misreading her face, but the longer it stayed there, the more concrete it became. Fear.

            Max slowed, but only slightly. He was murmuring to her, eyes never breaking contact, focused, as though desperate to get her to listen. He turned to reach into his pocket, pulling out a small object hanging from a chain. It caught the glow of the moonlight when he held it up in front of him for her to see. It seemed to increase her fear tenfold; a great quivering overcame her frame and she began shaking her head, taking several unsteady steps backwards.

            At that moment a massive _craaaack_ rang through the air, making all three of us jump in shock. I looked up, eyes searching the sky, and seconds later saw a bolt of lightning shred the sky in front of me. It seems as though Gam was right. A storm was on its way.

            If anything, the appearance of the thunder seemed to increase Max’s urgency. He would not be deterred. He moved forward to grab Olivia’s hand, pressing the object into it. She tried to pull away, but this time he didn’t let her.

            When he finally did release her, the object was no longer in his grasp. It was clutched tightly in Olivia’s shaking hand. He began to walk away. There was a sad, bittersweet smile on his face, one tinged with regret and longing for what could have been. For a moment, it seemed as though she wasn’t going to do anything else. She just stood there, her hood having long since fallen from her face, watching him. But then she lunged forward, dropping the object into the dirt, and grabbed his arm.

            Their voices grew louder, but still failed to be comprehensible. He was trying to pull away from her, aggressive and almost panicked, and she was yelling at him, fierce, refusing to let go. The struggle was a stalemate. Neither could break away from the other. At the peak of the struggle I heard Max say, “I don’t want to do this.” Then several things happened at once.

            First, instead of struggling, he grabbed her arm and pulled back, bringing them right up against each other. I saw her grip loosen out of surprise.

            Then he reached behind him and pulled something out his jeans. I saw the glimmer of steel, the glitter of a blade.

            Then another bolt of lightning tore the sky asunder, sounding like the very world was going to crack in half.

            Then he brought the knife down and plunged it into her stomach.

            I wanted to cry out but I’d suddenly lost my voice. A croak escaped my open mouth. I did not truly understand what the term speechless meant before that moment; it was like every part of me had simultaneously ceased to function. My heart was running miles in my chest. My hands felt numb.

            She buckled over. Instead of pulling away, he fell with her, one hand on the hilt of the knife and the other over her shoulders, guiding her down. They were both on their knees now. Her hands trembled near the wound, hovering; she looked up at him. He lowered his head and his lips found hers and he gently, gently kissed her, both of them so fragile as to shatter apart; the moment so fragile as to shatter apart; my scattered brain so fragile as to shatter apart.

            Behind them, the treeline bloomed a sudden, fierce red. The sun was rising. It was like a moment captured behind a camera lens; a sick, twisted, perfect picture. The red spread forward over the trees, diluting to orange and yellow. The red seemed to jump and curl and flick at the skyline. The red cackled and cracked and hissed. The red was accompanied by a thick plume of gray smoke. It was then I remembered that it was far too early for it to be morning.

            The sun was not rising. The forest was on fire.

            At this, Max pulled away. Olivia leaned forward, as though asking him to stay with her. But he didn’t. His hand brushed her face. He pulled the knife out of her stomach. She crawled forward, reaching out to his retreating figure, but it was far too late. She collapsed to the ground as her life left her.

            In the next moment he had turned on his heel and taken off into the burning forest. My brain stem reconnected itself and I stood, screaming, “ _Max!_ ” It was too late; he was already gone.

            Panic overwhelmed me. Olivia was dead, killed by Max, who had now taken off into a raging forest fire. Obviously I had to stop him, but at the moment the fire seemed like a more pressing concern—it was quickly making its way towards the campsite. I turned on my heel, darting towards the entrance, only to slam head-first into Gam.

            Picking myself up off the ground with a groan, I shook my head and turned her way. “Shit… What the hell are you doing out here?” she said.

            “There was… Max is…” I couldn’t even begin to comprehend the events I’d just witnessed. Instead I opted for, “The forest is on fire!”

            “No shit!” she yelped. “We let this thing keep going, it’s gonna take over the whole campsite. Any idea how it started?”

            “No, I was just…” Again, a loss of words. “I-It just showed up.”

            “Fuck…” I could almost hear her thinking. “We don’t got any water, save for the bottle kind, and that won’t do shit. Maybe we can fan it back or something…? _Fuck._ We gotta go wake up the other students. Can you help me?”

            I glanced back behind us, at the growing inferno. “Max just ran into the forest. I need to go find him.”

            “He did _what?_ ” Gam’s eyes were wide. “Fuck, are you sure? Shit. Fuck. Okay, I’ll go wake up the others. You just… Just stay safe, okay?”

            In the next moment, she was gone. I took a deep breath and then turned towards the fire, not giving myself a chance to think about how insane this was. The flames hadn’t quite reached the edge of the campsite yet, but they were making good progress. I put my arm over my mouth as I started running; at first the blaze was like a distant red, in front of me, but then it was all around me, the roaring a deafening cacophony in my ears. I almost didn’t hear the peal of thunder that shook the sky, lightning dancing behind the golden flames.

            Before long I started coughing. I tried to lower my head and run while crouching, but it didn’t help much. My eyes soon began to water, impeding my vision even further than it already was. I paused at a crossroad of trees, hoping to get a sense of direction, but it was impossible to tell anything apart. I heard a retort of thunder again, this one louder, sharper, and quicker than its predecessors. When I looked up I didn’t see any lightning, however, so I figured that the storm must be right on top of me. I began running again, desperate.

            My luck held. The path I chose soon led me to a tangle of flaming trees. At first I didn’t think much of it, but then I heard a weak, distant cough from nearby. Despite the heat, my blood froze. “Max?” I called. No response.

            Bracing myself, I shoved my way through a break in the trees, managing only barely to not catch on fire in the process. The flames around me were shockingly bright, almost white, almost blinding. The noise of it seemed to drown out all else. I pushed forward, only to cry out in dismay at what I saw.

            Max was lying on his back, spread-eagle, legs pinned to the ground by a fallen, burning tree.

            The sky growled once more and then suddenly it was raining, a shockingly-cold downpour that cut right straight through my clothes. The air was filled with the hiss of smoke and the roar of fire and the clatter of rain, but I could hear nothing save for Max’s irregular, shallow breathing.

            I ran forward and fell to my knees beside him, trying to lift his front half up by his shoulders. I managed to heave him off the ground, but I couldn’t pull him out from under the tree, and I couldn’t try to push it out of the way because it was on fire. My skin was slick from the rain and it was soon impossible to find purchase, even on his clothes. I hovered above him, desperate. “Max! Max, I can get you out of here. Just listen to me, please!”

            “Flynt? Is that you?” His eyes were blurry, gaze distant, as though there were a thousand miles between the two of us. “Heh, don’t scare me like that,” he said, and then died.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I find it a little eerie that this is Chapter 30. Every other not-a-oneshot fanfic that I've ever written has always ended right on 30 chapters. It's kinda creepy that the one where Max dies just so happens to fall on 30.
> 
> I apologize for having not only one, but TWO dues ex machinas in this chapter. I assure you they will be the only ones in the whole story. I think. Probably. 
> 
> I'm pretty sure I had something else to say, but to be quite frank you all are probably too shocked to even bother reading this. I know I am. So I think I'll just go.


	31. 5.4 "Funky Mystery Music"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to investigate it up.

Investigation

            I could no longer feel the scorching heat on my face. It felt like I’d gone numb. My senses were dulled: even the ringing in my ears felt distant. Another crack of thunder, so loud as to feel as if it were right on top of me, brought me back to reality. I turned and looked around. The constant, relentless downpour had already began to cut through the flames, making the fire sizzle and pop as it was slowly, gradually battered down. I needed to find the others.

            The way back was easier than the way there. My clothes were soaked through and my vision was blurred, making me stumble, but I still moved as fast as I possibly could. I emerged near the entrance to the campsite to find Haley, Buck, Neil, and Calise all gathered there, glancing around with uncertain and agitated expressions.

            “Flynt!” Haley cried when she saw me. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

            “Yes, I-I’m fine,” I managed. “But there’s… there was… Max, he…”

            “Oh fuck, is he dead?” Buck growled.

            “I…” I struggled to clear my head. “Where’s Gam?”

            Calise’s expression was bordering on panicked. “She ran off looking for you!”

            “We… We have to go back,” I said. “Follow me.”

            “Go back where?” Neil yelled, but I was already off. The others had no choice but to follow.

            It must have taken me close to ten minutes to find Max’s body again. As I ran, I noted the scattered locations of the cameras in the forest. There was one capturing the area where Max was, but none others in the surrounding clumps of trees. At the very least, it seemed as though the mastermind had seen his death.

            As we walked out into the clearing where his body lay, amid the cries of despair from the other students and the pounding of the rain, I heard a sound that chilled me to the core—the loudspeakers clicking on.

            “Attention, attention! A body has been discovered. After a brief period of investigation, a school trial will commence.”

            “What?” I cried. “He was murdered? I-I just thought it was the tree, or something…”

            “You found him like this?” Buck asked.

            I nodded. “He was still alive, but… kind of out of it. It didn’t take long for… for him to be gone.”

            “I don’t understand how this makes a murder,” Calise said softly. “The tree pinned him down and he died. It’s not like someone knocked the tree over. I don’t think that would be possible.”

            “No,” Haley murmured. “Look.” I turned to see her kneeling over his body, hand pressed against his chest. When she drew her fingertips away, there was blood on them. “There’s a hole of some sort in his chest,” she said. “Like he got speared or shot by something. It goes all the way through.”

            “Fuck,” Neil hissed. “ _Fuck._ ”

            Gam emerged out of the treeline seconds later, sweaty and breathless. Her eyes glittered, reflecting the dull light from the dimming fires around us. “I-Is that… Max…? Shit. Shit!”

            “Where were you?” I asked.

            “Looking for you, numbskull!” she spat. “You go fuckin’ running off into the forest like that… I mean I know I didn’t stop you at the time but it occurred to me after that that shit was fucking stupid! You coulda been killed. You’re lucky you ain’t in the same place Max is. Max… Fuck, man. Fuck. What the hell happened to him?”

            “He was murdered,” Haley said. “We know that much.”

            Before she could respond, the trees rustled once more and Monobear emerged from them, toting a long, snaking hose behind him. As he approached, he absently shot a blast of water at some of the remaining flames, grin as wide as ever.

            “Where’d you get that from?” Neil asked him.

            “Hey, that’s none of your business,” he said. “This hose is school property and is not to be tampered with by anyone but me!”

            “I wasn’t going to tamper with it…” he murmured.

            “Anyway,” the bear said. “I wanted to give all you bastards a friendly reminder that this here is a murder! Yep, that’s right. This was no fire casualty. Max Barrett was killed. So I suggest you stop standing around and gawking and get to work. If you don’t, who knows? Maybe you’ll _all_ be on the chopping block today!” He then turned and stomped back into the forest, idly spraying the hose as he went.

            “I’ll guard the body,” Haley said.

            “Me too,” Calise murmured.

            Roles now established, we gradually split up to begin the investigation. The rain was still coming down hard, making miserable conditions for doing much of anything, but we had no choice. I pulled my ElectroID out of my pocket and, shielding it with my sleeve, began to read.

            _The victim is Max Barrett. He was killed around three in the morning. He was found in the forest outside of the campsite with a fallen tree over his lower half. He has several burns and abrasions on his legs and a small, circular wound going all the way through his chest. There is blood from an unidentified source on his jacket and hands. There are no traces of poison or other drugs._

I frowned at the entry. Although it seemed to give a great deal of information, it also left several things out. The cause of death, for example, wasn’t listed. It also gave the very obscure hint of the blood on his hands and jacket, but I could guess pretty quickly where that had come from: Olivia. This made me more nervous than anything else, however. The mastermind couldn’t have seen Olivia die, as there were no cameras in that area. Was that why the blood was listed as “unidentified?” Furthermore, how were we to handle Olivia’s death? Was it really possible that the mastermind didn’t know yet?

            I would have to look into this—and soon—but for now I decided to stick with investigating Max’s body. Taking a deep breath, I walked up to him. He was lying perfectly still on the ground, his eyes closed. A pool of blood had gathered beneath him, but it was hard to see amid the needles and fallen pinecones. The tree over his legs had already been extinguished, a thin line of smoke rising up from it. I decided to look at that first.

            Glancing behind the charred bark, I could see the base of the stump that it had fallen from, only a foot away from the splintered point where it had broken. It appeared to be a natural break—the fire must have brought it down on top of Max. He wouldn’t have had a chance.

            I heard Calise walk up next to me. “You said you found him with the tree like this, right?” she said.

            I nodded. “I tried to move it, but it was on fire at the time and I couldn’t pull Max out from under it. It’s really heavy.”

            She was quiet for a moment. “Well, don’t feel too bad. Even if you had gotten him out of there, I think he would have died anyway. I think that wound in his chest is what killed him.”

            “I guess,” I said. “That’s not really much of a comfort, though.”

            “I know,” she sighed. “Sorry.”

            “I-It’s okay, really,” I said. “You don’t need to apologize.”

            “If you’re sure,” she murmured, walking away.

            I heaved a breath, then knelt to inspect his legs. Much of his pants had been burned away or damaged by the fire, exposing red, bloody skin underneath. Welts were already forming. The falling tree hadn’t crippled him, but the fire had done serious damage. Were he still alive, he would have required immediate medical attention.

            Buck walked up next to me, motions restless. “Man, this fire really fucked him up,” he said, then sighed, looking out across the burned landscape. “It shouldn’t surprise me, really. I mean, forest fires aren’t somethin’ to joke about. Which is why this one seems so weird…”

            “What do you mean?” I asked.

            He scrunched up his nose. “Sure, it’s raining pretty hard right now, but even so… It should have taken a lot more effort to put this fire out. It should have taken a few firefighter crews, a blockade, a crossfire, maybe a helicopter or two… But we put this one out with nothing more than some rain and Monobear’s stupid fuckin’ hose. Which makes me think…” He hesitated.

            “Just say it,” I said.

            “It makes me think that this fire was a controlled burn,” he said. “Like someone started it on purpose.”

            “That’s… a concerning theory,” I said. “But you have a point. Which makes it more concerning.”

            He shrugged. “Maybe I’m wrong. I don’t know. But I don’t think I am. It’s just something to consider, I guess.”

            I then moved on to the wound in Max’s chest, only to find that Haley was still inspecting it. She was crouching next to his body, staring absently at the pool of blood that was slowly extending out from beneath him. Her grimace was apparent even at a distance, and I approached with caution.

            “Hey, are you okay?” I said.

            She sighed, not bothering to look up. “I’m fine, I guess. I just can’t believe another one of us has killed someone. I thought… I guess I thought we were past that. Pretty stupid of me, huh?”

            “I don’t think so,” I said. “I believed the same thing, after all.”

            Her words dripped with bitterness. “This wound couldn’t have been an accident. Maybe a sharp tree branch could have done it, but not by mistake. There’s no way he could spear himself like this, even if he was running blindly.”

            “You said that maybe had something shot him?” I offered.

            “It’s possible, but I don’t know what,” she said. “There’s no guns on the campsite. Regardless, it’s a clean wound, straight through. If he _was_ shot, then it was at point-blank.”

            “And if he was speared, then that had to have been at point-blank as well,” I said. “I wonder how he could have gotten himself in such a situation.”

            She huffed. “Me too.”

            I was quiet for a moment, then ventured, “You know, an arrow could have done this.”

            “Yeah,” she said. “I’ve considered it. But this wasn’t me. Do you… Do you think someone could have tried to frame me?”

            “I… I can’t say,” I said. “We can’t say much of anything until we figure out what the weapon was.”

            The final thing to inspect on his body was, of course, the bloodstains on his hands and jacket. There was blood dying his shirtfront and the palms of his hands. At first glance, I could almost assume that the blood had come from his own wound, and that he had tried to block the bloodflow with his palms, but having seen what I did not too long ago, I knew better than to think that. He had been stained in this way when he stabbed Olivia in the stomach.

            Neil had walked up next to me. “This blood seems weird, doesn’t it?” he said.

            “I’m not sure I’m following,” I mumbled.

            “Well, look at it,” he said. “The stains are in really awkward places to have gotten there from his chest wound, and there’s no other wounds on him that could have caused it. So maybe it’s someone else’s blood?”

            “Like who?” I said.

            He frowned. “Maybe the culprit. I can’t think of anyone else.” He hesitated for a moment, glancing at the camera, then lowered his voice and murmured, “I wonder how Olivia’s going to react…? I know she doesn’t remember him and all, but still…”

            My veins felt like ice. “I-I don’t know…” I managed.

            I couldn’t quite figure out why it was that I was lying. Maybe it was the threat of the camera, or the vagueness in Max’s Monobear file, or the very nature of her death itself, but something was keeping me from telling the truth about Olivia. I felt like I needed a second opinion before I could take any action. I glanced up. The rain had slowed to a light drizzle, saving me from the shivering, drenching downpour, but still keeping the landscape damp enough to be dreary and unpleasant. I sighed under my breath, grit my teeth together, then turned and looked for Gam.

            She was standing near the edge of the clearing, arms crossed tightly over her chest. As I approached, I said, “Hey, do you think we could go somewhere else? I have something I need to talk to you about.”

            She looked up at the camera, then back to me, clearly understanding that “somewhere else” meant somewhere where the mastermind couldn’t hear us. “Sure,” she said, then led the way back into the smoking trees.

            After a short walk, Gam stopped and turned to face me. “What’s up?”

            I took a deep breath, trying to decide where to start. “Do you remember when I was out here when the fire started, and you were asking why?”

            “Yeah,” she said. “Hold up, is this gonna be a murder confession? I don’t think I’m ready for that shit, Flynt. ‘Specially not from you.”

            “N-No,” I stammered. “Are you serious? You really think I would kill someone?”

            She looked me up and down, slowly. “No. Not really. So what were you doing out there, anyway?”

            “I couldn’t sleep last night,” I said. “I saw someone walking out here, and they were acting suspicious, so I followed them. It was Max. He… he met up with Olivia in that clearing near the entrance, and they had some sort of conversation. Things got really heated. Then… Then he killed her.”

            Her expression rapidly fell through five different versions of “hard to read.” Her eyes were wide and dark, her lips a thin and bitter line. Her nostrils flared once. “You’re sure about that, Flynt? You’re fuckin’ sure?”

            “Yes,” I said. “I thought I should tell you, because… Because I don’t know why, actually. You just seemed like the right person to tell.”

            She let out a long breath, cheeks puffed, gaze averted. “I’ll consider it payment for the whole traitor secret. Does the mastermind know?”

            “I have no idea,” I said. “That part in the Monobear file, about the unidentified blood? That’s Olivia’s. That doesn’t really confirm anything, though. The mastermind just might have been able to tell that it wasn’t his, because that’s pretty obvious in the first place. I mean, we know the mastermind saw him die, because there’s a camera in that area, but I know for a fact that there _isn’t_ a camera where Olivia died. So the mastermind could be in the dark.”

            “Shit,” she said, breathing out hard. “What do we do?”

            “I don’t know,” I said. “I guess that’s part of the reason I’m telling you. I thought you might have a good idea.”

            She nodded absently, running a hand across her chin, motions taut and coiled. After a moment of silent deliberation, she said, “We should investigate her death, try to figure out what happened. But keep it to ourselves. If the mastermind doesn’t know, there’s no reason for us to alert them.”

            “That’s a good idea,” I said, then paused. “Do you… Do you think Max could have been the traitor?”

            She shrugged, stiff. “Maybe. We can’t say for sure until we’ve gathered more evidence.”

            I led the way towards the campsite, Gam trailing behind me. She was quiet, with her head down, and didn’t seem too interested in talking. I hadn’t expected her to react so strongly to Olivia’s death, but then again I didn’t know much about their relationship. I didn’t even think there _was_ a relationship until Gam suddenly and abruptly stopped suspecting Olivia altogether. It seemed that Gam had been doing her own investigations behind the scenes, out of my sight.

            I could hardly blame her, but it made me curious as to what had happened between the two of them. I was so lost in thought that I almost didn’t notice the glinting shaft of steel extending from a nearby tree. But I caught it out of the corner of my eye just in time.

            “Was that—?” I mused aloud, turning to walk in its direction.

            “What?” Gam asked. She was still for a moment, then followed.

            Sure enough, stabbed into the rough bark of a tree was the same knife that Max had killed Olivia with. In fact, now that I was looking at it closer, I could see that it wasn’t a knife at all—it was a shortsword. The same shortsword that Enoch had been carrying around with him before his death. It was constructed in the style of a small Japanese katana. I remembered hearing somewhere that it was called a wakizashi. The exposed hilt was wrapped tightly in red cloth, bits of the golden metal visible beneath the wraps. A small portion of the blade itself was visible, glittering silver in the dim light. I walked over and pulled it out of the tree with a loud _shink_ , staring at it in surprise.

            “Isn’t that Enoch’s sword?” Gam said.

            “Yeah,” I said. “But it’s also the one that Max used to kill Olivia. I was too far away to tell at the time, but this is definitely the one. I wonder how Max got his hands on it.”

            She narrowed her eyes. “Before the last trial, I remember seeing it in Enoch’s shoulder. I don’t think it ever left that place. Which means he must have taken it afterwards. And that’s… well, worrying.”

            “That means he knows where Enoch’s body is,” I mumbled. “Maybe that of the rest of the students too.”

            She took the weapon from me, studying it with a frown. “Man, this thing sure has traded hands a lot now, hasn’t it? It’s got some fuckin’ trail of blood following it. Maybe we should name it.”

            “What?” I said. “Why?”

            “It seems pretty damn important at this point, doesn’t it?” she said. “Might as well have a name if it’s gonna keep showing up like this. How about Hexdrinker?”

            I narrowed my eyes. “That’s… That’s a weapon in League of Legends, isn’t it?”

            “Um…” she said slowly. “No…?”

            “I don’t believe you.”

            “Yeah, okay, it is.”

            “Gam, we’re not naming it Hexdrinker.”

            “Blade of the Ruined King?”

            “No.”

            “Executioner’s Calling?”

            “No.”

            “Doran’s Blade?”

            “Gam!” I said. “Two people are dead!”

            “ _Don’t you think I’m trying to fuckin’ cope?_ ” she spat suddenly, lunging at me, her face twisted in rage, the sword shaking in her palm. She seemed to catch herself at the last second: her movements slowed, her expression cleared. She looked down at the sword and then slowly, slowly lowered it. After that she wouldn’t look my way.

            Both of us were silent for a long moment. I realized then that I had overestimated her ability to handle this situation. I was about to say something, but she spoke up first. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t very cool of me.”

            “No, I’m sorry,” I said. I took a breath. “I… humor is your thing. I should have realized that you were just trying to make both of us feel better. Hell, I should have figured that out a long time ago. I didn’t mean to… set you off like that.”

            She nodded lightly. I could tell by her expression that she appreciated me saying that. Her eyes wandered upwards, very slowly, and she murmured, “I’d still like to name it Doran’s Blade.”

            “Yeah, alright,” I said with a small grin. “You can name it Doran’s Blade.”

            “Really? Sweet,” she said. Like that, the tension was gone. “Now that we’ve found the weapon, we might as well go find the body.” I watched as she fiddled with Doran’s Blade, trying to stick it through one of her belt loops, but it was too wide to fit. She eventually deigned to shove the blade down her pants so that it was resting along her hip. “Any idea where the sheath is?”

            “Nope,” I said. “In fact, I think Max was carrying it with him in the same way that you are. He must have gotten rid of the sheath earlier, so Olivia wouldn’t be able to see the weapon. I wonder why he stuck it in this tree, anyway.”

            “Well, maybe we’ll find out later,” she said. “C’mon, let’s go.”

            After a few more minutes of wandering we found the clearing where Olivia had died. To our left, several feet off, was the entrance to the campsite, quiet and undisturbed in the fading predawn. It was still drizzling; large, gaunt puddles of water spotted the landscape at intervals, like the footsteps of some misshapen creature. My thoughts had already turned morbid and we weren’t even looking at the body yet.

            I braced myself as we made our way into the clearing, but nothing could have prepared me for what I saw. Olivia’s body wasn’t there.

            “Uh, Flynt?” Gam said. “You sure this is the place?”

            “Y-Yes, this is…” I took a breath. “I’m not wrong. This is where she died. And she _did_ die. I’m not making that up.”

            “Okay, let’s just… calm down a sec,” she said tetchily. “What do we see? What do we know?”

            I ran forward, scanning the grass. “Look. There’s blood here. There’s… a lot of blood here.”

            She walked up beside me. “Yeah, yeah okay. So something definitely happened here. But now her body is gone.”

            “The mastermind could have taken it,” I said. “If they know about the murder, that is. They would have wanted to cover it up, wouldn’t they?”

            “This seems like a pretty sloppy cover-up job to me,” she grunted, nodding at the seeping red that dyed the leaves at our feet. “I can’t believe the mastermind would leave something this obvious behind.”

            “Me neither,” I admitted. “But what else could it be? I was the only person who knew about her death.”

            She was quiet for a long moment. “I don’t know. But I suggest we go investigate her room in the catacombs, right? There’s gotta be something useful there.”

            “Good plan,” I said. “I need to check something first, though.” Under her curious eye, I knelt and studied the pool of blood, looking for the telltale glint of metal or sparkle of something out of place. There was nothing to be seen, however. I got to my feet, sighing.

            “What was all that about?” she asked.

            “When I was watching Olivia and Max, he gave her something before he killed her,” I said. “It was some sort of object hanging on a chain. It really seemed to affect her for some reason. I thought it might have been left here, but it’s gone. I’m willing to bet that wherever her body is, we’ll find that object there as well.”

            She nodded. “Good thinking. C’mon, let’s go. We don’t have a lot of time.”

            Gam and I made our way down into the catacombs. The shadowy, cramped quarters seemed almost inviting after all the time spent outside, in the reflexive hot and cold of the forest, with not so much as a single fencepost to keep us at bay. It wasn’t like I enjoyed confinement, but in that moment it seemed almost preferable to the wide open arms of the unknown. When Gam opened the door to Olivia’s room, I somehow wasn’t surprised to see her body lying on the bed, motionless.

            “Holy shit,” Gam said, shaken. She even staggered a few steps backwards.

            I shrugged it off, slipping past her into the room. “If you were the mastermind, and you’re the one who put Olivia here in the first place, where else would you bring her dead body? This is the only location that makes sense.”

            “You say that,” she said. “But we don’t know much about these catacombs to begin with. And considering what we _have_ seen down here, some dark old bedroom seems like one of the less likely places to store a dead body.”

            “You have a good point,” I admitted, frown deepening as my eyes wandered about the room.

            She sighed, terse. “Well, we can’t really confirm anything yet. Let’s… take a look, I guess.”

            The two of us very reluctantly shuffled towards the bed. Olivia was lying on her back, utterly still, arms at her sides, palms facing upwards. She looked just as she had in the middle of the night, before her death: she was wearing her normal clothes, save for her trench coat, which had been replaced with a black cloak. It made her look thinner and frailer than usual. Eyes were immediately drawn to her midriff, where her white shirt was stained in a brilliant bloom of red. A tear could be seen in the shirt where she had been stabbed by Doran’s Blade. Much of the blood had also gotten onto her cloak and pants, betrayed by dark splotches against the fabric. Her hair was spread out in a wild, tangled halo around her face. Her eyes were closed, expression devoid of absolutely anything. I noted tracks going through the soot on her face, however, as though she had been crying.

            Gam was quiet for a long moment. Then she said, voice gruffer than usual, “Wound looks like it hurt. Doesn’t seem like she has any other injuries though.”

            I nodded, then slowly, hesitantly reached out and pressed two fingers just beneath her collarbone. I had to slip my fingers underneath the chains of some of her necklaces to do it, and immediately regretted the action. It felt strangely, profoundly perverse, as though I were crossing some sort of unspoken boundary. I drew my hand away as soon as possible. “No pulse.” Despite myself, I let out a weak laugh. “I don’t know what else I expected, really.”

            Gam didn’t seem to have much to say to that. She nodded at Olivia’s face. “Tear tracks. Was she crying when Max was… You know, before she died?”

            I narrowed my eyes, trying to remember anything from that moment besides blinding horror. “I’m not sure. She could have been. It didn’t seem like it, but… I don’t know. I wasn’t close enough to tell.”

            She seemed to have something on her mind, but when she spoke again, it wasn’t any sort of stunning revelation. “Let’s search the room, okay? Maybe we can find something useful.”

            I nodded, turning away from her to scan the room. It didn’t look like it had changed at all since my last visit. The desk was still fairly clean, with the computer monitor turned off. The mirror with the plot diagram written over it was still in place, and seemingly unaltered. Although small and almost fragile, Olivia’s body was nevertheless the dominating presence in the room, and being in such cramped quarters with her corpse made it exceedingly hard to focus.

            Unsure of what to do, I stepped over to the plot diagram, frowning at it. “I wonder why she made this,” I mused aloud.

            Gam froze where she was leaning over the desk, looking up to eye me. “Oh. Well… I dunno. Could be anything, really. She was a Super High School Level Writer, after all. Maybe it was some sort of calming exercise for her or something. You never know.” The comedian seemed to have grown fidgety. She looked down at the desk again, searching it in silence.

            I wandered about the room a while longer, trying to find anything noteworthy, but nothing caught my eye. If it weren’t for Olivia’s body, I was beginning to think that this visit had almost been pointless. It was around that time that I heard Gam murmur, “Huh?”

            I looked over. “What is it?”

            “This piece of paper on her desk,” she said, holding it up for me. It was crumpled and torn, as though ripped out of a notebook. “You’re gonna want to see this.”

            I walked over, and she held out the paper for me to take it. Written on it, in a messy and hasty scrawl, was a message for Olivia: _Meet me in the clearing outside the campsite. Max._ I stared at it for a long moment. “Huh. He must have come visiting her, but she wasn’t here. She told me that she goes exploring the catacombs pretty often.”

            “So instead of waiting around, he left a note?” she said. “Sounds like he was in a rush.”

            “I wonder why,” I said, frowning.

            Gam looked away for a moment, expression earnest. When she glanced back my way, there was something dark in her eyes. “Listen, Flynt… there’s something I need to tell you. That plot diagram, it… well, do you remember the disk that made Jason freak out? The one that Enoch figured out was for a PS Vita?”

            “Yeah,” I said. “It was a game, right? _Dangan Ronpa._ But Enoch told me that it didn’t work. He couldn’t even get past the menu screen.”

            “Olivia… she had her own copy,” Gam murmured. “That’s what’s on the computer. She thinks the mastermind wanted her to see it for some reason. She made a plot diagram so she could keep track and compare the stories.”

            “Compare?” I asked.

            “Well there’s a sequel, for starters,” she said. “And… And the story, it’s just like ours. Monobear is _in_ the games, Flynt. The exact same one.”

            “What… really?” I said.

            She nodded. “And the story, it’s like… There’s all these similarities between the murders that have happened here and those in the story. I’m beginning to think that may—”

            She was cut off by a sudden, choked gasp from behind us. I watched as Gam’s eyes flicked to the side and her expression unraveled into one of unbridled horror. I spun around just in time to see Olivia lurch forward in her bed, eyes wide, expression twisted in some sort of frightening, emotionally charged way that I had never seen before. And definitely, undoubtedly alive.

            Gam staggered backwards, struggling to pull Doran’s Blade out of her jeans. She lost her footing in a panic and fell back, landing hard on her hips, and then yanked the blade free. Her hands shook as she pointed it at Olivia, looking horrified.

            The girl herself stared at Gam in shock, then looked up at my startled expression before sighing and lowering her head. For someone who wasn’t supposed to be alive, she seemed to have a pretty good grasp of the situation. Gam breathed, “You—Your heart wasn’t beating. You died.”

            “I know.” She looked down at her own blood-soaked self and winced as though she had a headache. “But it’s not—It’s not whatever you think it is. I’m… it…”

            “It’s just like before, with Ryan,” she said. “You didn’t die that time and you didn’t die this time, either. Olivia, what the fuck is going on?”

            “I can’t die,” she said, abruptly and without forethought. “I can’t die.” She said it again, as though it didn’t make sense the first time, which was a good thing because it hadn’t.  
            “That’s… not possible,” Gam said through grit teeth. In response, Olivia stood and walked over to her, lowering her hand. Gam hesitated a brief moment, then reached up and pressed two fingers to her wrist. “No pulse,” she said. “But you’re alive.”

            “I don’t get it either,” Olivia murmured. “But no matter what happens, no matter what I do, I can’t die.”

            “I… I don’t…” My heart was pounding out of control.

            “If you need more evidence…” She lifted up her shirt a few inches. Where a stab wound should have been there was nothing but clean, untouched skin. “I heal. After I die. It happened when Ryan killed me too.”

            Gam slowly rose to her feet, her head lowered. “This is… This is insane.”

            She winced. “I wanted to tell you earlier, but… You’re right. It is insane. And what am I supposed to say? ‘Your best friend killed me, but I didn’t actually die, and he did. Sorry about that.’ No, it was easier to lie. I… I wanted to figure out what was going on first, at least. But I didn’t.”

            Neither Gam nor I knew what to say. Olivia lowered her gaze. “I didn’t think anyone was going to come in here. I thought you’d be too busy with Max’s murder. So when I woke up, I didn’t bother to hide anything. I just came back here.”

             “I can’t believe this,” Gam said. “You’ve died twice?”

            “Not exactly,” she murmured. “Ryan killed me and I woke up here, in the catacombs. I was alone, with no food or water, so I died again.” She took a breath. “And then woke up again. Max figured this out. Max used his talent to discover why the mastermind had erased my memories. To find the information that I can’t remember. But then… he had to leave the campsite. And I didn’t want him to risk it. I was going to stop him. So he killed me.” Her hands were clenched into fists. “He killed me because he knew I wouldn’t really die.”

            “But… I don’t understand,” I said. “What did he find out about you? What’s his talent? Why did he have to leave? Who killed him?”

            She grimaced at my questions. “A trial is approaching, Flynt. You know I can’t give you the answers. Monobear will know where you got them from.”

            “There has to be something you can tell me,” I said.

            Her eyes narrowed. “It’s… very important that you discover Max’s title. Knowing this will help you put together the entire story.”

            “But you won’t tell us,” I murmured.

            “I can’t,” she said.

            “I better go do more investigating then,” Gam muttered. She then very abruptly stepped forward and gave Olivia a hug. The surprise on the other girl’s face was more than apparent. Gam quickly stepped back. “Thanks. You know. For not being dead.”

            And then she left.

            I was tempted to do the same, but I knew there was something I had to tell Olivia first. I forced myself to look her in the eyes. “You… When Max killed you…”

            She shook her head. “I can’t tell you anything else, Flynt. I’m sorry.”

            “No, that’s not what I meant,” I said. “I was going to say, when he killed you… I was there. I couldn’t sleep that night and I saw him walking towards the exit so I thought I should see what was going on… And it looked like whatever conversation the two of you were having was important, so I didn’t interrupt… And then he stabbed you, and I… I didn’t know what to do. So I didn’t do anything.”

            Her eyes widened as I spoke. A small breath escaped her. “I… I’m sorry you had to see that.”

            “It just came as a shock at the time, I guess,” I said. “What was the item he gave you?”

            She stared at me for a moment. When she spoke again, she said each word with such care that I knew they had to be of great importance: “Something he stole.”

            “He stole it?” I said. “What is it? Where did he get it from? What does it—”

            “That’s all I can say,” she murmured, eyes darting away.

            “Yeah, I know,” I said.

            “He didn’t want to hurt me, Flynt,” she said, voice firm. “Believe me when I say that. He did only what he had to. And… And it’s my fault for pushing him into that situation in the first place. If I had… No, I can’t say anymore. I’m sorry.”

            “I should be the one apologizing,” I murmured, walking towards the door. “This must be insane for you.”

            She leaned against the door frame, eyeing me as I turned to look at her. I noted, not for the first time, the exhaustion in her eyes; the pallor in her cheeks; the sadness in her gaze. It seemed that some things always carried over, even after death. As I stared at her, she swallowed a wince, her eyes narrowing; I thought I could see moisture in them. “I still can’t remember him,” she said, and then closed the door.

            I spent some more time looking around in the catacombs and combing through the forest, but I couldn’t find anything else of interest. The trial announcement came sooner than I’d expected, and it made me jump: but there was nothing I could do. I had to go.

            We all gathered and made our way down to the elevator. As we descended, I couldn’t help but wonder if I would ever see the campsite again. Would we survive this trial? Was it possible? My heart leapt into my throat and lodged itself there, refusing to move. The elevator creaked and hissed around us—and then stopped.

            The doors opened onto a courtroom of fire and ice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The extended League reference here actually has deeper roots than just the game in question. You see, back in the days that myself and a handful of other people in this story were doing a very long HS roleplay called Piratestuck, Enoch was playing as Mituna. He had a very complex backstory for Mituna, and the place that the character had been born in was a small alternate universe called Doran's Blade. Of course he had named it after the League item, but for the two of us it quickly grew into a household name. When I thought of the idea of naming his weapon, that sprung to mind almost immediately--and since Gam is a big fan of League of Legends, I figured I might as well go for it. 
> 
> Honestly, I'm shocked it took me this long to get a Piratestuck reference in here.


	32. CJ Ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I actually didn't see half of the content of this coming.

School Trial Part 1

            _Can I really handle another death? Even if it was that of a murderer’s? So many people have already died. Why does this keep happening? Why can’t I get out? I’m scared. I’m scared that we won’t make it out of here. I’m scared that the mastermind will win. I’m scared that, somehow, all of this will be my fault. I’m scared I’m scared I’m scared I’m scared I’m scared I’m scared I’m scared I’m scared I’m scared I’m scared I’m scared I’m—_

Calise jolted up in bed at the sound of her alarm clock, glaring at its face to see that she had overslept. Again. Her alarm must have gone off several times already, without even waking her up. Cursing under her breath, she attempted to fling her sheets off, only to get them tangled around her legs and trip, crashing off the side of the bed and into the ground. _Again._

            She normally didn’t mind being late. In fact, she was so used to being late that it had stopped bothering her a long time ago. But today was a special day. Today was one particular day where she had wanted, very badly, to not be late.

            Today was the day senpai would notice her.

            Desperate to make up for lost time, she ran to her closet and struggled into her best fuku, the one that she’d had her mother iron the night before. Then she grabbed her bag and darted out into the kitchen to see the woman herself leaning on the counter, frowning. “Calise, dear! The bus has already left.”

            She let out a frustrated yelp. Mother always made toast for her: she grabbed the piece just as it shot out of the toaster, shoved it into her mouth, and ran. There wasn’t even any time to butter it.

            Her footsteps made a rapid _tap tap tap_ against the hard pavement as she darted up the street to school. Calise had been planning this for days. She _had_ to make a good first impression. If her senpai didn’t like her, she didn’t know what to do. All she knew was that it would be terrible.

            She counted the seconds until the first bell under her breath, determined to make it in time. It looked like she would be in the clear: she still had a full two minutes left until the bell rang, and the school building was only a few feet away. Hope soaring in her chest, she dashed through the gate—only to run face first into someone who was standing there.

            They both fell to the ground, school bags falling from their shoulders and spilling their contents across the pavement. Calise lifted a hand to her head, rubbing it with a small groan. “Oh, I’m really sorry about that…” she looked up to see her victim, and—“Oh! Senpai!”          

            Buck Williams ran a hand across his face, grimacing. His expression cleared when he registered Calise in front of him, lying on the ground. “Oh, uh, it’s fine, I guess,” he muttered. “Just watch where you’re going, okay?”

            Her heart caught in her throat. “U-Um, yes! Of course! I won’t be so clumsy next time.”

            They both scrambled to their feet. Drowning in awkwardness, Calise quickly stooped to pick up her things. “Hey, I can get that,” Buck said, startling her.

            “Oh… I, um… You don’t have to… O-Okay.” She didn’t know what to say. After all of her planning and pining the entire scheme had been dashed in five rapid, despair-inducing seconds. Now he would forever know her as the clumsy girl who was late to school. She watched in a bitter silence as he stood, holding her books out.

            “Thank you,” she mumbled, just as he said, “Here you go.”

            They were both quiet for an uncomfortably long moment. “Hey, by the way,” he said abruptly. “What’s your name, again? We’re in the same class but we’ve never really talked before…”

            This, of course, had been by Calise’s design, but she made sure not to say that. “It’s Calise,” she said. “Calise Jin.”

            “I’m Buck Williams.” He said this as if she didn’t already know it, which made her feel more embarrassed and awkward for ever seeing him as a senpai in the first place. She just wanted to run away at this point.

            He seemed to notice her discomfort, because he said, “Is something wrong?”

            At that moment, the school bell rang—Calise was late. She sighed. “I’m just late for class now. That’s all.”

            “Oh, really?” he seemed taken aback. “I thought, ‘cause you were out here, you must not care about that sort of thing. I don’t. I was thinking about skipping today, actually.”

            “Y-You were?” Calise was one part horrified and two parts relieved. If he didn’t care about school, that meant that he didn’t judge her for being late. She was still in the clear! “I, um… I don’t care either. It’s just… um… My mom. Yeah. I try to be on time for my mom, because it makes her upset otherwise.”

            “Oh, that’s pretty cool of you,” he said. He seemed to approve. Calise could have cheered, she was so happy. His expression soon fell back into a frown, however. “Actually, now that I’m thinkin’ about it, I think I’ve seen you around here before. You’re late pretty often, aren’t you?”

            Uh-oh. “Yeah… Yeah, I am.”

            He raised an eyebrow. “But you don’t want to upset your mom? I don’t get it.”

            Calise rubbed her neck with one hand, looking away. “I, um… it’s silly, really. I have these dreams. They keep me from waking up sometimes.”

            To her surprise, Buck seemed interested. “What kind of dreams?”

            She couldn’t stop herself from blushing. “They’re always about our class, actually. All of us are in them. We’re at some sort of campsite… I don’t always remember them, but bad things are always happening. I-It can get scary.”

            “You serious?” he said, looking surprised. “No way. I have dreams like that too.”

            “Really?” her eyes went wide.

            He nodded. “Someone dies every night. Sometimes they die because they killed someone else. Sometimes the story is linear, and it picks up where it left off, but sometimes it starts over every night. It’s always our class, but different people die each time it resets, like my brain can’t decide on what really happened or something.”

            “Those sound just like my dreams,” she said, awestruck. “How weird…”

            They both fell silent, uncertain of what to say. Calise glanced to the side, staring at the rows of cherry trees on either side of the path behind them. Cherry blossoms caught in the breeze and spilled from the branches, wafting gently past them. Buck swatted at any that were in reach, looking disgusted. She couldn’t stop herself from giggling.

            “What?” he spat.

            “Sorry,” she said quickly. “It’s just kind of funny when you’re trying to hit the blossoms like that.”

            “Whatever.” He pulled at his olive scarf, grumbling.

            She lowered her head. “I’m sorry. I’ve made you upset.”

            “N-No,” he managed. “It’s just… ‘Funny’ isn’t really my thing. I like people to take me seriously, y’know? I don’t want to be some big joke.”

            “Me neither,” she said, and she wasn’t lying. “A lot of people think I don’t want to succeed or do well, because I’m always late. But that’s just because of my dreams. I _want_ to be on time. I _want_ to do well. It’s just hard when I can’t even wake up properly.”

            He frowned. “You said earlier that you don’t really care about school.”

            She felt herself turn bright red. “Oh! Uh… Oops. I might have been lying a bit.”

            “What, to impress me?” he said. She couldn’t tell if he was offended or not. “Don’t do that. You’re just lowering yourself when you try to change yourself for other people. You’re better than that.”

            “I-I am?” she could barely speak, she was so overwhelmed with emotion. Buck thought she was better than that! Did that mean he liked her? Her heart was going doki-doki all over the place. “Thank you!”

            “No problem,” he said, studying her. “Anyway, I gotta go. But we should talk about that dream thing again sometime, okay? Maybe it’s important or something.”

            “Of course!” she said brightly, watching him walk away. Although things hadn’t gone to plan, Calise was getting the impression that this was even better. Somehow, just by stumbling into him on the street, she had set them on a path that seemed intertwined by fate. They were even sharing dreams!

            As she walked to class, she wasn’t in the least bit worried about being late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh yes, we're following the pattern of another alternate ending before the trial.
> 
> This one's based on the fact that Calise was a latecomer reading just about all of the updates during chapters 1 and 2. The joke was that she was late for late school. Always. Poor Calise.
> 
> But her time has come. Her time to briefly be the cherry blossom protag. I'm so, so proud.


	33. 5.5 "Arsonist's Lullaby"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Took a pretty long break so I could play video games. I'm back now, however, with at least semi-permanence.

School Trial Part 1

            The banners had been changed to dark purple ones that glittered darkly in the dim lighting. We wasted no time taking our places around the courtroom. Somehow the presence of our dead friends’ faces, greyed out and eyeing us, was more oppressive and disturbing than it had ever been before. I felt my stomach twist, heart aching with a fearful sickness. I wanted out of here very badly.

            Monobear leaned back in his throne, one paw playing near his face. “Well, you bastards know the drill by now. Time to get to work!”

            Haley shot him a furtive glance, then turned to look at the rest of us. “Okay, where do we start this time?” she asked.

            Neil frowned. “We don’t know the cause of death, or what weapon was used, so those probably aren’t good places to work from.”

            “We know what time he died,” Buck offered. “Three in the morning.”

            “And we know the forest was on fire at the time of his death,” Calise said with a nod, then hesitated. “Wait… we do know that for sure, right? Or was he already dead when the fire started?”

            Gam shook her head. “Flynt went out looking for him, remember? He found him while he was still alive, but it was too late. He was already pinned down by that tree.”

            “He died maybe half a minute after I found him,” I murmured.

            Calise frowned. “Then wouldn’t the fire have been his cause of death? That tree would have been enough to kill anyone.”

            “That’s true,” Neil said. “Especially when you consider the burns and injuries on his legs. Those were some serious wounds. I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s what killed him.”

            Haley made a face. “But what about the wound on his chest? It went almost directly through his heart. An injury like that has all the signs of being a killing blow.”

            “What could have caused it, then?” Buck asked. “Gun? Yeah, sure, but we don’t have any of those on the campsite. Sharpened tree branch? Sure, but no one would someone go to the effort of whittling something like that. Bow and arrow? Okay, I could buy that. But it puts you in a nasty fuckin’ position, doesn’t it Haley?”

            “Shut up!” Haley said. “I’m just trying to help here. What have you done to help anyway?”

            “I’m the one who just gave you a list of possible murder weapons,” he spat. “ _And_ pointed out the ones that aren’t possible.”

            Gam scoffed. “You say that, but you’re the one who’s most likely to have that kind of shit with you, Buck. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re hiding a gun in that backpack of yours. And even if you aren’t, you’re good with nature, right? I can see you sharpening a stick like that just to throw us off the trail.”

            “Please,” he grunted. “As if I’d be fuckin’ stupid enough to do something like that after what happened with Dani.”

            “But you don’t deny your talents,” Neil muttered.

            His eyes went wide. “A ‘course I fuckin’ don’t! What, are you gonna deny your own endurance level now if I said that you were physically fit enough to kill someone during a forest fire like that? Cause you could have.”

            “I use my talents for sports, not _murder,_ ” he snapped.

            “I don’t think—” Calise started, only to be cut off by Buck.

            “You don’t think what, Calise? Huh? You don’t think you did it? Cause I’m not so sure anymore, you know? You put on this fuckin’ innocent act and flaunt around in your stupid fucking cosplays like you own this goddamn place. Hell, maybe you do! Maybe you’re the mastermind. Shit like that wouldn’t surprise me at this point anyway! So c’mon, you don’t _what_? Go ahead and fuckin’ say you’re innocent. I need something to laugh at.”

            She looked horrified. The courtroom fell silent. She lowered her head and mumbled, “I was just going to say that I don’t think Buck did it.”

            Buck paled. He looked like he might try to say something, but the words seemed to catch in his throat as he dropped his gaze. I took a deep breath. “Okay, that was a little weird,” I said. “We all just kind of… went at each other for a moment there. I think we need to calm down.”

            “Maybe we should assess what we know for sure before we try figuring anything else out,” Haley offered.

            “Good idea,” I said. “So… what do we know?”

            “There was a forest fire,” Neil said. “Max died during it. He was pinned down by a falling tree. The fire _did_ injure him, but it doesn’t appear to be the cause of death. He has a wound going through his chest near his heart… Um, what else?”

            “He ran into the forest just as the fire was starting,” I added. “I know that because I saw it. It looked like he was heading somewhere in a hurry.”

            “Wait, you were out in the forest?” Haley said. “Why?”

            “I, uh…” I glanced to the side. “I couldn’t sleep and I saw Max heading towards the forest. So I followed him.” It wasn’t a lie, but I wasn’t going to include the part about Olivia. Not until it was absolutely necessary to do so. “The fire started less than a minute before he ran into the forest,” I paused. “It lit up the whole sky. There’s no way he didn’t see it.”

            “Then I came out because all the noise woke me up,” Gam said. “The thunder an’ shit. I went to go wake everyone else up while Flynt went to look for Max.”

            “I found Max just as it started raining,” I said. “I couldn’t move the log because it was still on fire and I couldn’t pull him out because it was too heavy. He… He died within the minute.”

            “And then?” Neil asked.

            “I ran back to the campsite to meet up with you guys,” I said. “It took me at least ten minutes to find you. Which means Max’s body was unguarded for that amount of time… but it didn’t look like there were any changes when we got back.”

            “But you can’t be sure,” Calise said. “It was smoky and hot and the rain was coming down really hard. It would have been easy for you to miss something.”

            “That’s true,” I said.

            “What about noises?” Buck ventured, his tone less aggressive than usual. “Did you hear anything strange?”

            I shook my head. “Just thunder.”

            This seemed to frustrate him for some reason. “I have a theory,” he said after a moment.

            “What is it?” Haley asked.

            “Well, there’s one thing we left out in the list of stuff we know,” he said. “We also know that the fire was really dangerous and aggressive, but strangely easy to put out. We didn’t have to do anything ourselves. All it needed was some hard rain and a hose. That’s really unnatural for a forest fire.”

            “What’s your point?” Neil said.

            His lip curled slightly. “Well, what if that fire was made on purpose? What if the culprit made it to distract and confuse us?”

            “Is that really possible?” Gam asked.

            His teeth were grit. “A controlled burn like that wouldn’t be too hard to pull off, especially in a dry place like this. All you’d need is a good wind, maybe a bit of gasoline, and some kindling. You’d be ready to go.”

            “I didn’t find any gasoline or anything during the investigation,” Neil said with a frown. He glanced at everyone else for confirmation, and we nodded dissent—there was no gasoline to be found.

            “Even so,” Buck said. “It seems really likely to me that this fire was made on purpose.”

            “Let’s just say it was,” Gam said. “The culprit would have had to have been pretty prepared ahead of time to pull this off. That means that they knew Max was heading into the forest that night.”

            “Was he planning on leaving?” Calise mused.

            “I think so,” I said, remembering Olivia’s words. “I mean, I can’t imagine what else he was doing out there. He must have been trying to leave.”

            “And the culprit wanted to stop him?” Neil said, expression puzzled. “But why?”

            Everyone was quiet for a moment. I almost missed it, but I saw Gam’s eyes flick my way, expression nervous. Then she said, “I think we’ll be able to find more answers if we figure out what Max’s title was.”

            “What makes you say that?” Buck asked with a frown.

            She shrugged, trying for casual. “It just seems really suspicious to me that he died like this. We didn’t even know anything about him. For a murder as strange as this one to happen so suddenly, I think his missing title had to have been involved.”

            “It’s not a bad theory,” Calise said. “But how are we going to figure out what his title was?”

            The same question was running through my head. Olivia had told us that his title would be important, but we had no clear evidence pointing us towards what it was. I thought back to everything she’d told me, wracking my brain for something of use. She’d seemed confident that we’d be able to figure it out. I screwed my eyes shut, and beneath my lids I could see Max’s hand reaching out to Olivia’s in front of an outline of trees, an object on a chain dangling from his fingertips.

            “He stole something,” I said, blinking.

            “What?” Haley asked.

            “He… um, he stole something,” I repeated, heart pounding in my chest. “When I… When I was following him to the forest, I heard him talking to himself under his breath. He mentioned something he stole, that he had to hide it.”

            The others stared. I expected someone to call bullshit at any moment, but Gam was my blessed saving grace. “Okay, so he stole something,” she said. “What does that tell us?”

            “It sounds to me like whatever he stole is related to his murder,” Calise said. “Like, maybe he stole something from his killer.”

            Gam hesitated for half a second, then leaned forward. “Hey, um… So there’s something I haven’t been telling you guys,” she said. Everyone immediately turned to look her way—I saw her swallow. “There’s… There’s a traitor among us. Monobear told me a while back. I… didn’t take him seriously,” she lied. “I thought he was just saying it as a way to make me not trust you guys. So I didn’t mention it earlier.”

            Buck’s eyes were dark, narrowed slits. “Then why tell us now?”

            “Well, what if Max’s killer was the traitor?” she said. Her eyes darted my way and then back. “What if what Max stole was something that proved the traitor’s identity? They would want to kill him then, wouldn’t they?”

            “I guess so,” Haley said, eyeing Gam with a troubled frown. “But I can’t think of anywhere on the campsite where information like that would be stored. Unless Max stole it from the traitor themselves, but that would mean that he already knew who they were.”

            Buck frowned. “Maybe he got it from that bunker, or in the—” I could tell he’d been about to say catacombs, but he stopped himself at the last minute. “Or, you know, somewhere else.”

            “But breaking into a place like that would require a serious talent,” Neil said. “You’d have to be a Super High School Level Thief or something.”

            Everyone was quiet for a very long moment.

            “So let’s just say he was a Super High School Level Thief,” I said. “Let’s just guess that for a second. Where does that put us?”

            “H-Hang on,” Buck said slowly. “This is going off of the assumption that he broke into one of the restricted locations on campus. And that’s against the rules. So wouldn’t the mastermind have killed him?”

            Monobear sighed very suddenly—a loud, drawn-out noise. “Alright, that’s enough. Time’s up.”

            “What?” I said. “What do you mean?”

            “What do you mean, what do I mean?” he growled. “It means time’s up! You’re out of seconds to spare. The trial is over. Voting begins now.”

            “You’ve never given us a time limit before!” I yelped.

            “Yeah, wait a second,” Gam added. “This is pretty suspicious, isn’t it? Hell, this entire trial is suspicious! All we have to go off of are assumptions and vague bits of evidence. None of this makes any sense or means anything. How are we supposed to solve a murder like that?”

            “Oh, so you’re saying you’d rather die?” the bear said. “Very well. It’s your choice. Just get to the voting already.”

            Gam scoffed; her eyes were wide, as though she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “This is… It’s a trap. You did the same thing before, with Naegi and Kirigiri—”

            “Who?” Neil asked, blinking.

            “I… it’s…” Gam blinked. She looked to me for help, then lowered her gaze. I wouldn’t have been able to help anyway—only she and Olivia knew the story to which she was referring.

            “Yeah, hang on a fuckin’ minute,” Buck snarled. “If anything about this is suspicious, it’s _you_ , Gam. You kept this fucking traitor secret from us for god knows how long and now you start mentioning the names of people we’ve never heard of? How much else are you hiding?”

            “Now that you mention it…” Haley said slowly. She hesitated for a moment, then continued: “Gam could be the killer, couldn’t she? She went off alone that night to go wake up the rest of us, and then ran off to find Flynt afterwards. Those are two pretty big chunks of time during which she could have killed him.”

            “It… does make sense,” Neil admitted. “She must have been hiding the traitor secret because she _was_ the traitor. And then Max figured it out, so she had to kill him.”

            “Wait… Wait a minute,” she managed. “I’m not the traitor. You guys need to listen to me, okay? This is the mastermind’s trap. They must be the one who killed Max. Th-Think about the evidence…”

            Calise had a hand pressed to her lips, brow furrowed. “I almost don’t want to say it, but… Didn’t Gam get in a fight with Max during the investigation for Enoch’s death? That could have contributed to the motive…”

            “N-No…” her eyes were wide. “No, I wasn’t—I wouldn’t kill anyone!”

            “You say that,” Buck muttered, “But that’s the first thing you tried to do upon arriving to the fuckin’ campsite. You plotted Olivia’s murder.”

            “I…” her breath caught in her throat. “I was panicked at the time, I wasn’t thinking straight! But my head cleared. I didn’t go through with it, okay? I fucking stopped myself. Doesn’t that count for something?”

            Neil’s eyes were narrowed. “I think it’s more likely that Monobear told you to kill her, because you’re the traitor. But when you saw Ryan make his move, you decided to back off and save your own sorry ass.”

            “That’s not true!” she cried.

            “Hang on, everyone,” I said quickly, eyes flicking back and forth. During this debate, something had occurred to me that I hadn’t realized earlier. “Gam is onto something here. Think about the evidence connected to Max’s death. A weapon which suggests someone with shooting skills had done it, like Haley. Tactics that suggest someone with hunting skills had done it, like Buck. Terrain that suggests someone athletic had done it, like Neil. A situation that suggests someone unexpected had done it, like Calise. And time slots that make Gam and myself easy targets. It’s almost like the culprit had wanted to make _all of us_ look suspicious.”

            “Yeah, and that culprit is Gam,” Buck grumbled. “Think about it. With both of you having the time slot issue, it makes it easy for her to push the blame on you. She set everything up that way.”

            “I swear, I didn’t!” Gam said. “Flynt is my friend. _All_ of you are my friends. I would never… never do something like that!”

            “We don’t even know your real name,” Calise murmured.

            She squeezed her eyes shut as though something was on top of her, clawing at her, and yelled, “ _Harper! It’s Harper Boyd!_ My name… My name is Harper.” Her eyes opened, as though of their own accord, and she stared, fixated, at the wooden podium beneath her. “I _think_ my name is Harper. But… But maybe my name is Caehl. I don’t… know anymore… I don’t… know who I am…” Everything about her seemed to be drawing into itself, like she was trying to disappear. “I don’t know who Caehl is… I’m not even sure I know who Harper is. And I certainly don’t know which one Gam is supposed to be.”

            I stared at her: in her eyes, in the twitches of her jaw, in the shake of her hands, I saw someone else. Someone who wasn’t Gam. Someone who I’d never been properly introduced to, and now might never get a chance to meet ever again. Something black and sticky and raw was crawling up my throat, filling my lungs, flooding my mouth—it was despair. “Gam…?” I heard myself ask. But no one responded. Gam wasn’t here.

            “Hey, are you bastards listening?” Monobear suddenly snapped. “The trail is over. So stop talking and start voting!”

            I voted for myself, but the result still came up as Gam. I knew it would. I don’t know why I let myself hope that it wouldn’t. But I did, so it hurt when Monobear said her name; it stun like knives. What he said next hurt even more, however:

            “And of course you bastards are completely correct. It was Gam. She’s the one who murdered Max Barrett. Well done.”

            “No!” she screamed. Tears welled in her eyes and pooled over, a veritable flood. “You’ve got that wrong! It wasn’t me, I’m innocent!”

            “Gam Ponytore has been found guilty,” he growled. “Commencing execution: Last Comic Kneeling.”

            The clamp had dragged her down into the arena before I could even react. I felt dizzy, like I was spinning and no one could stop me. Fear and despair clogged my face, my mouth, my eyes, making me feel numb and broken. I ran to the balcony all the same, looking out in desperation.

            Gam had been taken down into a makeshift theater, with a slightly raised podium in the middle. She had been placed upon and chained to this podium by thick metal cuffs around her wrists and ankles. The chains were short, forcing her to kneel at the edge of the stage. Her audience consisted of nothing but three Monobears who all sat at a table directly in front of her, with notepads, glasses of water, and little red buttons at their disposal.

            “Alright, your audition starts now,” One of them said. A spotlight clicked on, illuminating Gam’s tearstained face. “Tell us a joke.”

            “I… I don’t…” she gasped, breathless. “I don’t understand…”

            “How boring!” he growled in disapproval, bringing his paw down and slamming it into the button in front of him. There was a sudden, horrific screech of metal from above the stage—a massive, monolithic black block smashed into the ground to Gam’s left, a red X painted across its surface.

            She gasped several times, breath stolen out of fear, and then looked up. I did the same. Just visible above the stage lights and wires was the shape of two more black blocks, just like the first one, secured in place by chains. One of them hovered directly above Gam herself.

            “C’mon, didn’t you say you’re a Super High School Level Comedian?” a second Monobear snapped. “Do something funny already!”

            This seemed to ignite a rage in her. “I don’t know, is that really my title? You tell me, you fucking stuffed piece of shit! You’re the one who locked us all in here! You’re the one with all the answers! _Who the fuck am I?_ ”

            In response, he scoffed and tapped his button. The block to Gam’s right came crashing down. When it hit the stage, the whole arena shuddered. Even the railing in my hands vibrated in response to the violent impact. Gam screamed in a helpless, hopeless fury.

            “A _joke_ , Miss Ponytore,” the final Monobear said. “That’s all we ask.”

            “Yeah, you want a fuckin’ joke?” she spat, yanking at her bonds. “This whole campsite is a fuckin’ joke! _You’re_ a fuckin’ joke! You think you scare me? You think you scare—” she snapped one hand up as best she could to point in my direction “—any of them? You think _whatever the hell you did to my brain_ scared me? Well I hope you don’t because then you’re underestimating your opponent and… _ohoho_ boy, isn’t that a bad idea. Those—Those kids up there? They’ll fuckin’ ruin you. You’re over, you piece of shit. You and whoever is behind that robot, about to press that bullshit button. Both of you are fucked. You hear me? I may go out right here, right now, but you’re old news. You’re fucking dead.”

            She was still shaking and crying, but her speech contained not a single tremor. She meant every word of it. I felt like the balcony had broken and I was falling, falling, falling downwards.

            “Hey, that _is_ pretty funny,” the last Monobear said. “Not good enough, though.” He pressed the button.

            I could hear the rattle of the chains above her as they released the block. The entire arena was filled with the sound of screeching steel. It seemed to go on for a million ancient, forbidden seconds, fragile moments in which everything shook—the air, the stage, Gam, myself. Her eyes wandered upwards and found mine; or maybe my eyes wandered downwards and found hers. Either way, we were then looking at one another. It seemed like she might try to say something, but couldn’t think of anything that would fit. She shrugged; weakly, apologetically, as if to say, “My bad.”

            The block fell. There was a sickening crunch. The spotlight went out.

~ ~ ~ ~

            “Do you… Do you think she was really innocent?”

            We were walking back to the campsite. Buck had slowed his pace to match my sluggish one at the back of the group. I didn’t really feel like talking to anyone, but something about the tone of his voice and the troubled sparkle in his eyes made me speak. “Yeah, I do,” I said.

            His expression fell. “But that’s not possible, right? Monobear only executes someone if they’re guilty. He said she was guilty, didn’t he?”

            “He was lying,” I said, quietly shaking my head. “There’s no way she killed Max. Absolutely no way.”

            “That’s bullshit. This is bullshit.” He was quiet for a long moment, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. “You know anything about all that stuff she said? About Harper and… what was it? Caehl? You know what any of that was about?”

            “Not really,” I said. “I thought one of those must be her real name, but… she wasn’t too sure about it herself. It was like her true identity had been kept a secret, or something.”

            “What, like an imposter?” he said, then shook his head. “Man, this is fucked up.”

            I was about to respond, but then I saw what was in front of us. At the crest of the hill, standing in front of the dull light of the fire, was a person. Their arms were crossed behind them, waiting for our approach. As we came closer, I saw without doubt that it was Olivia.

            “What are you doing out here?” I said. “Monobear will see you.”

            “I’m sure he already has,” she said, then paused. “Gam was innocent.”

            I didn’t even bother asking how she knew; the finality in her voice was too much as it was. Sighs and hisses came from the other students. They’d all been just as uncertain as Buck. I thought of Olivia’s relationship with Gam; the hidden friendship that they’d cultivated over the past few weeks. I didn’t know what to say.

            “I’m tired of hiding,” Olivia said. “I’m tired of letting the mastermind do whatever they want.” She had changed out of her bloodstained clothes and into a different set. The trench coat, necklaces, and boots were still there, though. I didn’t blame her, considering how much blood had covered her person, but despite the changes she still looked just as tired and haunted as she had before.

            “What are you going to do?” I asked.

            “Something I should have done a long time ago,” she said, and then turned to face the fire, stepping into its light. “Monobear!” she yelled. “I’m ready to face you now.”

            Some buried part of me knew what to do next. I stepped forward to stand at her side, glanced back at the others, then called out, “We all are.”

            For a brief moment, nothing happened. There was no sound save for the crackle of the fire. Then a shadow slithered forward on the other side of the fire and Monobear’s face leered into the light, eye gleaming. He stepped closer, nothing but the fire separating us from him.

            “Upupu… About time,” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternate execution title: "I came out to have a good time and I'm honestly feeling really attacked right now"
> 
> Yes, this update title is a Hozier reference.
> 
> Also, it's ironic that Gam and Ryan were the two to have puns in their execution titles.
> 
> The shock factor here is a little lost on those who aren't in the know, so I'll clarify: Gam's real name is Harper. Caehl is Gam's best friend. Now the question being thrown around in canon is this: Which one were you reading about for the past 400 pages?
> 
> And look at that! We're right on the cusp of Chapter 6. Which means answers. Lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots... and lots of answers.
> 
> Also! Good ol' Aaron made a Re:kindle t-shirt based off of the "Press F8 to reveal your f8" reference. It looks fucking sick and I'm very excited for mine to arrive. You can check it out here: https://www.teepublic.com/show/38619-press-f8-to-reveal-your-f8
> 
> Oh, I almost forgot--I can tell you about all of that crazy Chapter 1 shit now.  
> Gam was originally going to be the Chapter 1 victim. In this alternate universe where she died so terribly quickly, Olivia was not going to have her strange ability to not die. Rather, she would have been incorrectly accused during Chapter 5 and faked her own death during the execution. There were two major problems with this.  
> 1\. I had no idea how the fuck she was going to fake her death.  
> 2\. The entire plotline as a whole is way less awesome in this version.  
> What ultimately made me change it, however, was Gam herself. I very quickly fell in love with her character and my desire to kill her fell to negative 7000. So I bought her four extra chapters by sacrificing myself.  
> There's a lot of references to this in canon. Two that come to mind quickly are Gam and Olivia's close relationship and one of Olivia's lines during the masquerade party: "They must all think I'm Gam."
> 
> Ha ha.  
> Gotcha.


	34. 6.1 "A Key Skeleton"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once upon a time

CHAPTER SIX: THE REKINDLING

Investigation

            Cold light cut through the filmy air like knives, splintering the darkness of dawn and speckling it with shadows of color. The trees hissed and murmured as the wind cut through them, scattering leaves and twigs with each careless breath. The fire crackled, jumped, sparked. I stared at it, feeling like I was going blind from the brightness of its embrace, yet unable to look away.

            Monobear’s terms were simple.

            If we could solve all of the mysteries of this campsite—Max’s death, Olivia, the mastermind—then we would be allowed to leave. But if we failed, or (as he put it) “could not handle the pressure of these revelations,” then we would all be executed. Every single one of us. We hesitated to agree at first, but with Olivia now out in the open, what choice did we have? And we couldn’t just sit back and do nothing. We sought justice—not only for Gam, but for all of the other dead as well. We had to proceed forward.

            The others had already gone their separate ways to investigate, but it was clear that none of us really knew what we were looking for. It didn’t seem like there was anything else to find, save for those things that were locked up and out of reach. I was about to go wander off in search of _something_ when I spun around to see that Olivia was standing a few feet behind me, arms crossed. I started.

            “H-Hey,” I managed. “How long have you been standing there?”

            She shrugged. “A while. You seem uncertain.”

            “All of us are,” I said. “We have no idea what we’re looking for. Or where to look for it.”

            She was quiet for a moment. “I can help. I have some of the answers. I certainly don’t know all the mysteries of this campsite, but I _do_ know some of them. I can point you in the right direction.”

            “Tell me what you know, then,” I said.

            “I can’t,” she said, offering me an apologetic smile. “You’ll see more with your eyes closed. The more information I give you, the less closely you’ll be looking on your own. What if there’s something I’ve overlooked? If I give you all the answers, then neither of us will see it.”

            I studied her. “Interesting theory.”

            “Picked it up in a story I read,” she muttered. I could tell by her tone that it was a challenge of sorts: she was trying to gauge how much I knew. Thanks to Gam, I already had the appropriate answer in mind.

            “Story,” I said. “ _Dangan Ronpa,_ right?”

            She nodded. “That’s right. The mastermind put it on my computer in the catacombs. They chose to let me know about it while still deigning to keep the rest of you in the dark. I think there must be a reason for that. And I think it might have to do with my inability to die.”

            “What do you mean?” I asked.

            She paused for a moment, considering. “I don’t know. I’m still trying to work it out. But I have to make connections, right? I have to think like a detective. Like Kyouko would. That’s the role I’m playing, after all.”

            “Who?” I said.

            “Kyouko Kirigiri,” she murmured. “One of the characters in _Dangan Ronpa._ She was in a situation sort of similar to mine.”

            “Kirigiri…” I said. “Gam mentioned her during the trial.”

            Olivia’s eyes widened slightly. “Really? Whatever for?”

            “Well, she was wrongly accused,” I murmured. “Based on what she said, I guess that’s what happened in the story, too. Right?”

            She nodded. “Yes. But they managed to get out of it. No one who was innocent actually died in their story.” Her eyes lowered. “If I’d acted faster… Gam could have lived too.”

            I hesitated for a moment, studying her half-hidden expression. After a brief second of indecision, I ventured, “Gam was… acting a little odd during the trial.”

            “What do you mean?”

            “She was…” I paused, then started over. “One of the claims the other students had against her was that no one knew her real name. So she went to tell us, but… she didn’t seem too certain herself. She said she was either Harper or Caehl. But she couldn’t tell us which.”

            Slowly, Olivia’s expression fell. “An imposter… that was a common trend in the _Dangan Ronpa_ stories. But she didn’t know her true identity either? How strange.” She was quiet for a moment. “We’ll be able to learn more about this once we find Max’s files.”

            “Files?” I asked.

            We eyed one another. “Max found them,” she said. “He said it’s part of the reason that he figured out so much about my identity. I can’t say any more than that.”

            “Okay, fair enough,” I said. “So where should I start?”

            “We still need to solve Max’s murder,” she said. “I would start at the crime scene. I believe there’s at least one or two things you must have missed the first time around.”

            “Are you going to come with?” I asked.

            She half-turned away, seemingly studying the line of trees behind us. The fire crackled dully. “No,” she said. “I’d like to take a look at some things on my own, first. Meet me in the catacombs when you’re ready.”

            She started walking away, and I spurred myself a few steps closer. “Olivia—”

            “Everything’s fine, really,” she said.

            “That’s not… what I was going to say,” I said. “I just wanted to tell you, you know, that you’re still one of us. Just because of this… death thing, or… or because of how distant you’ve been… that doesn’t mean you aren’t our friend.”

            When she didn’t respond, I forced myself to continue: “I mean, whatever happened in the past, regardless of why the mastermind stole our memories, there’s one thing that’s obvious to me. We used to be friends. All of us. And you were one of those friends. I know that without a doubt.”

            Again, she didn’t say anything. Birds chirped in the early morning. The light kissed the ridge of the horizon, lighting up the trees. She laughed softly, glancing at me over her shoulder. “You’re far too sentimental, Flynt,” she said. “The perfect protagonist.” And then she walked away.

            As expected, it took me a considerable amount of time to relocate the area where Max had died. I was getting somewhat better at navigating the dense, badly-marked forest, but I was far from skilled enough to make it easy. It occurred to me that this inconvenience was just about the only reason that Olivia had woken up in time to see that Max had died. Had this forest been any easier to move through, I would have seen her before she’d gotten away. It was all just rough luck.

            When I finally arrived at the location, however, I realized that I must have already passed it a few times—it was pretty hard to find when Max’s body wasn’t even there. Buck was standing nearby, leaning on a tree and twisting something between his fingers. I walked up. “Where did Max go?”

            He shrugged. “No idea. I guess Monobear took the body already.”

            “But how are we supposed to continue investigating if the body isn’t here?” I said.

            At that moment, Monobear wandered out from amongst the trees. “Eh, you’ll be happy to know that the body isn’t necessary for the investigation,” he said. “You’ve already found everything you can from his corpse. Any and all evidence you need is gonna be in other places.”

            Buck narrowed his eyes. “But that’s helping us. Isn’t your goal to make this harder?”

            “Who, me?” he said, feigning shock. “I want to make this as easy as possible for you poor bastards! I would never do such a thing.”

            He left before we could argue it any further, but something about this definitely felt suspicious. I relayed the concern to Buck.

            He nodded. “I agree completely. There’s gotta be a reason for him to take care of the body ahead of time.”

            “Maybe he just didn’t want to deal with it rotting?” I suggested.

            “Yeah, maybe,” he said. “Still, that seems like a weird thing for someone like the mastermind to be bothered by.”

            “You’re right,” I said. “Anyway, have you found anything useful?”

            “Yeah, actually.” His tone got my attention. “I found somethin’ pretty fucking big.” He held up the object that he’d been twisting in his hands earlier. I hadn’t been expecting it in the slightest, so it took me a moment to place it: a thin, dark, bloodied bullet.

            My eyes widened. “What? Where did you find this?”

            “In the fallen tree,” he said, nodding in its direction. “Lodged in the bark, right above the break. Bullets aren’t really known for knocking down trees, but the impact plus the fire would probably have been enough to send it crashing.”

            “But there’s blood on it…” I said.

            “I know,” he muttered. “If the culprit shot straight through Max as he was running away, and it hit the tree… Max would have been slowed down by the shot. He wouldn’t have been able to get out of the way in time.”

            I studied the crime scene, nodding slowly. The picture painted itself. “You’re right,” I said. “But where did a gun come from? There’s none on the campsite.”

            “Don’t look at me,” he said, scoffing. “That’s the fuckin’ question of the hour.”

            I considered it. “The only person who would be able to get their hands on a gun would be the mastermind themselves, right? There’s no way that someone else could have had such a weapon.”

            “I think you might be right,” he said, glancing to the side.

            After talking with Buck I walked over to the felled tree, kneeling to inspect the area above the break. Sure enough, amid the cracked bark, was a small hole. It looked about the size of the bullet he’d shown me. I wished I could have taken another look at Max’s injury, but I didn’t think it would matter much, anyway; I had a clear image of it in my head as it were.

            I spent a few more minutes looking around, but I couldn’t find anything else of interest. As I was heading back to the campsite, however, I was intercepted by Calise, whose eyes were wide and bright with excitement. “Flynt,” she said. “I found something in the forest. I think I know how the culprit started the fire.”

            “Really?” I said, blinking. “Okay, show me.”

            She took a wending path through the forest, moving slowly and checking landmarks as we went. Soon we reached a small collection of what had once been trees that were now little more than black, stunted branches. Next to them was the half-melted remains of a gasoline can. “Woah,” I said. “How did this get here?”

            “I have no idea,” she said breathily, staring. “But I’d bet that it’s how the culprit started the fire. If they spilled gasoline over some of the trees, to make the fire go in the directions they wanted to… It would have been easy.”

            I nodded, staring. “You’re right. And that means that Buck was right, too. This was a controlled fire that the culprit set to distract us.”

            “I wonder why they didn’t clean it up,” she said.

            “Good question,” I said. “Maybe they were rushing, to make sure they got there on time? But then… why would this still be here? The culprit has had plenty of time since then to hide something like this.”

            “It’s strange,” she agreed.

            I explored the forest for a while more, but it had no more secrets to offer up. I figured it was now time for me to head down into the catacombs and see what I could find there. I had a strong feeling that Olivia’s presence could be enough to turn the tides of this investigation. When I headed into her room, however, I found that she wasn’t there.

            But Haley was. The archer was sitting in Olivia’s usual chair, one arm hugging her knees while her free hand absently clicked at the mouse. Her expression was dull and almost melancholic, eyes locked on the computer screen. A grimace played at her lips, barely visible. When I walked over, she jumped in surprise.

            “O-Oh,” she managed. “Hi Flynt. I’m not… Wow, this probably looks pretty suspicious, doesn’t it?”

            “A little,” I admitted. “I don’t suspect you, though, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

            “Olivia was here when I came in,” she said. “I wanted to investigate down here and asked her where she thought I should start. And… she told me the computer. There’s a… There’s a story on here.”

            “I know,” I said. At her look of surprise, I added, “I haven’t read it or anything. But Gam and Olivia knew about it. Gam… mentioned it before she died. This story, _Dangan Ronpa…_ it’s what was on the disk that made Jason freak out.”

            “You mean he’s read it too?” she said.

            “No. Enoch managed to figure out the disk as well, but it was too damaged. Completely unplayable.”

            “Hmm,” she said, considering this for a moment. Then she said, “Come look.”

            I rounded the side of the desk to kneel behind her, staring at the screen. There was an image of a girl speaking on it, arms crossed over her chest, expression sparked with disdain. There appeared to be a gymnasium behind her. It seemed as though the game’s characters were depicted through sprites, little images of them talking and acting with various different emotions. Despite the fact that these characters were going through the same experience that I was, I felt strangely disconnected. They were distant, unfamiliar, and inhuman to me, and at first glance spurred nothing in my heart.

            “What’s her name?” I asked, searching for something that would make her feel more real.

            “Um…” Haley was quiet for a moment. “Junko, I think. Junko Enoshima.”

            It didn’t help at all. I stood up. “They’re going to Hope’s Peak Academy, right? In the story?”

            She nodded. “It looks like it’s the original campus, the one in Japan. There’s no mention of any other locations. I wonder when this story was written?”

            “Good question,” I said, then shook myself lightly. “Any idea where Olivia went off to?”

            She frowned. “Not sure. I don’t think she left the catacombs, though.”

            “Hmm,” I said. “Thanks anyway.”

            I exited her room, figuring I would have to go exploring if I had any hope of finding her. I didn’t want to take too much time, but I made sure to poke my head through any door that would open as I went, making my best attempt at being thorough. Most of the rooms were empty or similar to ones I’d already seen, with boxes stacked haphazardly and rows of beds or damaged computers dominating the space. Nothing of particular interest caught my eye in most of them, though bloodstains or other questionable graffiti was a common theme.

            Before long I reached the huge metal door that Olivia had shown me during one of my first trips into the catacombs. It ran from floor to ceiling and resembled an airlock in just about every conceivable respect. I recalled what Olivia had told me when we first visited; that she believed the mastermind to be lying in wait on the other side. I halfheartedly tried to twist it open, but of course found it to be locked shut.

            Soon I began to descend further, going farther into the catacombs than I ever had before. There was a considerable fear of getting lost, but I forced myself to press on regardless, hoping my luck would hold out.

            It did, in a sense. There was a small, easy-to-miss side passage forking off of the main one on which I was walking. I almost moved right past it until I caught a whiff of the stench emitting from within. It smelled of rotten things, overripe and dead, cloying and catching in my throat. I nearly doubled over, choking on the scent. My desire to move on increased tenfold, but my curiosity had reared its head as well. After a moment of hesitation I made my way into the passage, moving slowly.

            The path was unlit and slanted downwards into unknown depths. I pulled out my lantern as I proceeded forward, free hand over my mouth to block the smell. I knew before I was anywhere near it that the next thing I would see would be a dead body. I just wasn’t expecting it to be Gam’s.

            I didn’t get a good look at her because I was too busy throwing up. What I did see was mangled, broken limbs; pieces of exposed bone; flattened and mutilated flesh. I didn’t see her face. I don’t know if there was a face left _to_ see. I felt like I was being choked. Tears pulled at the corners of my eyes.

            As I got my breath back, my foot came in contact with something metal beneath it; I looked down to see Doran’s Blade, somehow inconceivably undamaged. Gam must have had it with her when she died, and yet it hadn’t suffered any ill from the block that had crushed her. I was simultaneously furious and mollified. Just like Gam had said, this stupid weapon had shown up once again. It was like it was cursed; anyone who came in contact with it was doomed to die.

            Every part of me was disgusted. I wanted to kick it across the room, but I paused. If Gam had been here, she would have laughed at the idea of it being cursed. She would have picked it up and taken it just to spite me. But instead she was lying in a mangled heap behind me; too foolhardy for her own good, too brave for everyone else’s. I picked up Doran’s Blade and tucked it into my jeans. Some stupid, asinine part of me knew that she would have approved.

            Just as before, I knew there would be a body before I could see it. The smell was growing stronger, after all. Although I didn’t want to admit it to myself, was loathe to accept the inevitable, I knew before I saw him that it would be Max. He was slumped against one sloped wall of the tunnel, burned legs splayed out beneath him, head limp against his shoulder.

            I stared at him as questions flooded me. What did he find out that was so important? Was it really worth killing over? Was he content when he died? Angry? Sad? Scared? Who did he think of last? Olivia, bleeding out in the dirt? Me, hovering over him with panic in my eyes? His killer, lost in the shadows? Himself, slipping, slipping, slipping…

            I shivered, but I wasn’t cold.

            Further down the tunnel, as expected, was Gigi, chunks of flesh missing and covered in claw marks. The worst injury was on her neck, of course, where the killing blow had been: blood amassed around an open wound that took up more than half of her neck. At some point during the tiger’s feast her goggles must have come loose, because they were now lying haphazardly over the top of her brow. Her eyes were half-open and seemed to look straight at me.

            She was certainly dead, there was no doubt about it. But the wry, narrowed angle of her gaze suggested something wild and very much alive: I could almost fancy her sitting up, a dark smile spreading across her bloodied lips, grinning at me, saying, “Come now Flynt, there’s no reason to look so _sad_.”

            If eyes were the window to the soul, then a dead person’s eyes must be like a mirror. In the reflection of her irises I saw myself; afraid, alone, indescribably tired. Suddenly her expression seemed less wry and more congratulatory, as if she were giving me her best grin: “Oh, _very_ well done, Flynt. I always knew you would make it this far. If anyone has it in them, it’s you.”

            I knelt and gently fixed her goggles back over her eyes, hands shaking but motions firm. She would have liked it better that way. Just a touch of mystery, to keep her pure.

            I was falling into a rhythm now. Next up was Enoch, chin lowered to his chest and face hidden in shadow. The wound in his shoulder seemed to glare at me: or maybe it was glaring at the blade tucked into my jeans. I frowned down at the hilt, then looked back at Enoch. I realized with a small shock of surprise that Max must have found this place as well; that was how he gotten his hands on Doran’s Blade. It made me think that he must have been pretty desperate for a weapon—from what I’d seen, he and Enoch had been pretty close, and I couldn’t imagine him defiling his corpse in any other circumstance.

            I winced as I studied him, remembering his enraged outbursts in the days before his death. Rage not at us, or at the situation, but at himself. That was what had made it so hard to stomach; that he chose to blame himself above all other things, holding his self-image on a pedestal that not even a character in a story could reach. I lamented, not for the first time, our inability to understand him earlier on. We might have been able to stop this if we’d reached him sooner.

            Although I’d gotten used to the smell by now, it didn’t stop me from gagging at the sight of Jason, his flesh charred and blackened. I didn’t throw up, however: even his cindered form could do nothing to rival Gam’s mangled remains. After taking a breath, I steeled myself and turned to get a proper look at him. He would be completely unrecognizable if it weren’t for the fact that I’d seen his death—and also because the bodies were going in chronological order.

            My expression softened as I stared. What he’d done had been terrible, but he had been under the influence of something far worse: the mastermind and their scheming, their plans, their secrets. His tenacity and determination to solve the puzzle that was this campsite had been his downfall. I wished… I didn’t know what I wished. I just wanted the old Jason back. The Jason whose brain wasn’t broken from despair.

            Jae was up ahead. The light from my lantern splattered irregular shadows over the stump of her neck and the severed head lying next to her… or him, I guess. The smell of death and rot grew considerably stronger around them, but I bit my tongue and forced myself not to choke on it. He would have scoffed at me for being so weak. Called me a pussy for being affected by something as inconsequential as a smell. Maybe make a joke about choking on dicks, or something stupid like that.

            I thought back to Enoch and grimaced. There was so much that I never knew about the two of them; why they acted so distant, why they had different last names, why they seemed to be so strangely afflicted by one another. Questions that, now, might never be answered. I swallowed bitterly and forced myself to move on.

            Ohanzee was collapsed on the ground a few feet in front of me, head lying slightly off to the side. I’d never noticed it until now, but beneath the damp and bloodstained drape of his shirt, I could see the taut coil of light muscles. It seemed as though Jason hadn’t been the only one to underestimate him. We all had.

            His act of heroism still stuck out brightly in my memory. If not for him, it seemed very likely that Jason would have succeeded and left the rest of us for dead. In that moment he was protecting more than just Jae: he was protecting every single one of us. I tried to think about what must have been going through his head to drive him towards the storage room door, to make him raise his fists against Jason. I wondered what he might have been thinking when that elk head came crashing down. Heart warm and head aching, I turned and walked on.

            Dani was up ahead, casting long shadows over the tunnel walls from the numerous spears sticking out of her body. Truly a macabre display if I’d ever seen one. My stomach twisted, but not from the presence of her corpse—rather the cool, empty calm of her expression made bile rise in my throat. I could clearly hear Buck’s scream ringing in my ears; the guilt that clouded her features in the courtroom. She had deserved better. We all had, really, but Dani more than anyone else. She had been her own victim.

            I wished I could have helped her. I wished we had seen the signs. All of this could have been avoided if just one of us had possessed the wherewithal to see what was going on around us. Instead we let friends suffer and lives end. I caught myself—I sounded like Dani had in her final moments. Was I adopting her emotions? Goodness knows she was the last person who deserved to have thoughts like that.

            The water had long since left Pam’s body. She lay on the dry ground, absolutely still, limbs splayed out at her side. I stared at the faded scabs on her knuckles—yet another person that we’d underestimated. If anyone had the power to fix the rift between Dani and Buck, it had been her. But fortune had not favored her plans; or Buck’s, or Dani’s. And all three suffered as a result.

            In my head I tried to think of a good explanation for why someone as kind as her had died. In the end, I figured she had been _too_ kind. Too much for her own good. Nothing useful could come from trying to make _everyone_ happy. It just wasn’t possible, was it? But she had seemed to think otherwise. That was a bad thing, right? Or was it good? I couldn’t tell the difference anymore.

            I almost convinced myself to turn around at that point. I couldn’t imagine any good coming from having to see Ryan’s face again. But in the end, something pushed me on: whether it was mortal obligation, or morbid curiosity, or some highly-tuned sense of inevitability, it didn’t matter. All I knew was that I had to keep walking.

            He was, of course, the least physically marred out of all the corpses. His killer had been internal: the desperate and unstoppable need for air. He was lying against the wall, still, eyes closed, expression twisted into a light grimace. His last moments must have been horrifying. That was all I could think about. The false bravado leaving his system as he panicked against a tidal wave of sand, limbs pressing helplessly against the titanic foe, lungs filling as his mouth forced itself open, gasping for a source of air that didn’t exist…

            I shook myself. And what for? All this over a victim that hadn’t really died? He’d been trying to protect all of us. Sure his plan had backfired—and pretty badly, at that—but that was _normal_ for Ryan. For all the years I’d known him, he’d always been the type to enter a situation with a terrible plan and usually do pretty terribly as a result: but he always somehow came out of it looking noble. A god, a hero, a martyr. What had happened to that? To his glorious aftermath? It had been stolen away by Olivia, by her unbeating heart, by her refusal to simply _die._

            I stomped down the tunnel, half-hoping to find Olivia’s corpse there. Then I’d be able to confront the fake. Then Ryan would have died for a reason. Then I wouldn’t feel so empty.

            Olivia _was_ at the end of the corridor, but it wasn’t a corpse. She was sitting cross-legged in front of the rough stone dead end, the walls thoroughly bloodstained and dark. In her lap she held Gam’s hat, staring at it in a quiet, ignoble silence. I stopped a few feet away and stood there, unsure of what to do with myself.

            She half glanced in my direction, probably to confirm my identity, and then looked down once more. We were both quiet for a long moment, the smell of death and the weight of my unknown guilt clouding my senses. “This is… where I woke up,” she said. “After Ryan killed me. I was alone at first, so I thought… I don’t know, I thought that somehow I hadn’t died. That the deaths were just a fake. Even when Ryan’s body showed up, I thought… What if they faked it somehow? What if he’s still alive, and they’d separated us?”

            She paused.

            “But then the days dragged on. I lost track of time. There was nothing down here. I died again, in the dark, hungry. Empty. When I woke up, then, I knew that the first time couldn’t have been a fluke. Still, I thought… Maybe Ryan’s alive? Just because I was the special case didn’t mean that this still couldn’t have been faked. But then Pam showed up. And then Dani. One after another, here in this tunnel. There’s a… chute system in the ground. For the bodies. It leads from the trial room, I think, but it’s not like I can follow it back.

            “Still, I’d hoped…” she winced, cutting herself short. “By then I’d found my room with the copy of _Dangan Ronpa_ in it. It didn’t add up. It made me nervous. And then you found me, and confirmed what I couldn’t accept on my own. You hadn’t found anyone else. The bodies were real.”

            She sighed. “I suppose I could have said something sooner. But it was too much of a risk at the time. It still feels like a risk right now. And yet…” She raised her head to look at me. “I feel as though I can trust you, Flynt. I don’t know what I’ve forgotten, but… I’m convinced that I must have known you well, in the past.”

            I didn’t know what to say. She could probably see that by my expression. I swallowed and managed, “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

            She shook her head. “It’s my fault for not acting sooner. Clearly the mastermind set this up on the off-chance that I died. They wantedme to see _Dangan Ronpa._ They wanted me to have to suffer and die in the dark. But in doing so, they had given me the power. All I had to do was reveal myself, and all this could have ended. I should have done that in the beginning.”

            “But you couldn’t have,” I said. “You couldn’t find your way out of the catacombs.”

            “I guess,” she said, averting her gaze. “Or maybe I just wasn’t looking hard enough. Maybe I was too afraid. I mean, think about it, Flynt. You found your way down here with laughable ease.”

            “I guess you have a point,” I said slowly. “But I still don’t think this makes you guilty or something. Sure, there are going to be things you regret, but… You did your best.”

            “We can see about that once we’ve gotten out of here alive,” she said, expression morose, then shook her head. “Anyway, enough about me. We have an investigation to complete.”

            I considered saying something else, but in the end I just nodded. “Right. Where should we go first?”

            “I found a few papers in my last combing of the catacombs,” she said. “They're back in my room.”

            “Okay,” I said. “Ready when you are.”

            She stood slowly, twisting her hand to study the front of Gam's hat. She held it up in the light from my lantern as she got to her feet, eyes narrowed. “Hmmph. Harper. It's a nice name. Caehl, too. I can't imagine why she would bother changing it.”

            “I wish we could know,” I murmured.

            “Maybe someday,” she sighed, then shook herself. “Come on, let's go.”

            We were quiet for much of the walk back, most notably on our way past the bodies. I didn't look too closely—I’d already done that once, and wasn't interested in doing it again. Olivia seemed quite familiar with our surroundings, a fact that I couldn't fully blame her for. As we exited the tunnel, however, the silence grew awkward. Shifting my gaze from side to side, I sought a topic.

            “Do you have any ideas as to who the mastermind is?” I asked finally.

            She flicked her gaze my way. “What, are you asking me to mark our friends? That seems a little harsh for you, Flynt.”

            “I... Sorry, I didn't...”

            “I'm only joking,” she said, but didn't offer any more of an explanation.

            “You're probably right,” I managed after a moment. “That _is_ an awkward question to ask. Er—who was the mastermind in _Dangan Ronpa_?”

            Her expression softened. “Junko Enoshima,” she said. “Super High School Level Despair.”

            “Haley was reading it on your computer earlier,” I said, thinking back. “She showed me that character. So she was one of the students, then?”

            Olivia hesitated. “Yes, but she was not actually present until the end of the story. The Junko that you saw was her sister, in disguise.”

            “An impostor?” I said.

            “That's right.” She nodded. “There was an impostor in the second story as well, but they didn't turn out to be the mastermind.”

            “So it seems like these stories are following the same pattern that ours is,” I said.

            “Or _we're_ following the same pattern that _they_ did,” she suggested, then made a face. “The entire basis of these stories is strange. They appear to have been written by a professional company, Spike Chunsoft. But that means that these stories were made with intent. Does it mean that this camping trip is nothing more than a sick sort of reenactment? But why?”

            “Hmm, that is weird,” I said. “You mentioned it was a translation?”

            She nodded. “The version the mastermind supplied me with is a let's play. The translator goes by the name of Orenronen. It's... good you're asking this, actually, because the papers I was talking about are discussing the people in question.”

            “Oh?” I raised an eyebrow. “What are they?”

            She hesitated, glancing back. “I better just show you.”

            Haley wasn't in her room anymore, and the computer was turned off. I assumed she'd gone to do more investigating before we ran out of time. Olivia walked over to the desk, opened one drawer, and pulled out two newspaper clippings, handing them to me. The first headline read, “TRANSLATOR ASSASSINATED IN ONGOING VIDEO GAME SCANDAL” and included no picture. Much of the article was ripped up and illegible, but I could make out a decent amount:

            _A foreign translator heavily associated with the now-infamous video game “Dangan Ronpa” was found dead outside of a Tokyo apartment last night. It is unknown whether or not his supposed murder is related to the video game._

_Known as Orenronen, this translator created one of the first known fan translations of the game several years ago. His real name has been left undisclosed. Officials are reporting..._

            I stared at it for a moment. “He was killed? But why?”

            “I wish I had the answer,” Olivia said, tapping the paper. “But they describe _Dangan Ronpa_ as 'now-infamous.' Clearly something happened involving it, and it was considered a news-worthy event. Go ahead, look at the other one too.”

            I glanced down at the second paper. This article was considerably more damaged and shredded than the last, but that didn't tell me much in terms of age. The title read, “SPIKE CHUNSOFT OFFICE DESTROYED IN EXPLOSION: NO SURVIVORS.” What little else remained of the article had been rendered completely illegible from damage, but there was a large, faded picture of a smoking pile of rubble available for me to look at. “Th...This is...”

            “I believe those associated with _Dangan Ronpa_ were targeted,” Olivia said. “I'm not sure why they did it, but I'd bet that the mastermind was responsible for both of these. They wanted to erase all evidence of this video game.”

            I put the papers down. “That's strange though, isn't it? None of us have ever heard of this game before now. Why would they need to get rid of it?”

            “Remember, we're missing memories,” she said darkly. “And a lot of them, at least in my case. It's entirely possible that we knew this game very well before coming here.”

            I swallowed. “Well, thanks for showing me. It's something to work with, at least.”

            She nodded, glancing to the side. “It's the least I could do after all of the secrets I've kept from you.”

            “There's still plenty more you haven't told me,” I said. I tried to keep my tone light, but she frowned in response.

            “I know,” she said. “I'd like to fix that, if I can.”

            “You could start by telling me what it is that Max gave you before he died,” I offered.

            She grimaced. “A skeleton key. He told me it can open any door on this campsite. But... I've lost it. It disappeared before his trial.”

            I was about to respond, but then her door swung open to reveal Neil, expression agitated. “Phew,” he said. “I thought I would find you guys here. C'mon, I’ve got something you're gonna want to see.”

            We followed him out of the catacombs, across the clearing, and towards the lodge, his footsteps rushing against the invisible clock. He took us to, of all places, the bunker behind the lodge, sitting just as quiet and impenetrable as ever. Olivia's eyes widened as we approached. “Have you found a way in?”

            He opened his mouth and then closed it again. “Yes and no. I mean, _I_ didn't find the way in. It was already open.”

            “What?” I blinked. “Who opened it?”

            “No idea,” he said, shrugging. “But I tried the door, and it opened right up. I... haven't really looked inside yet though. I'm a little, heh, nervous.”

            We approached. Olivia stepped forward and twisted the knob; the door creaked inwards. Neil glanced at the two of us and said, “I'll go get the others.”

            Olivia nodded at him and then proceeded inwards, moving slowly out of caution. As she entered the threshold her arms lowered and went slack, lips parted in barely-disguised wonderment. One brief moment of hesitation and she’d hurried inside, inspecting the bunker’s contents with a morbid curiosity. Unable to imagine what could possibly be in there to produce such a reaction, I stepped inside—and gasped.

            The bunker was covered from floor to wall in neat, orderly rows of video game cases, organized by console and year of publication. There were easily a million copies in there; maybe even two million. I didn’t have to look at them to know that every single one was a copy of _Dangan Ronpa._ I glanced Olivia’s way. Both of use expressed a barely-constrained look of horror.

            She took a breath. “The mastermind must have…”

            “Taken all of them…” I said.

            “…Away from the public. They must not…”

            “Have wanted them to know…”

            “…About this story.”

            “But why?” I said, blinking rapidly.

            She considered it. “I can’t say for sure. Obviously the mastermind didn’t want the public gaining too much of an understanding of this story… But based on what we know, it seems to me like it was already pretty common knowledge. At the very least it could have continued to pass by word of mouth. Unless they’d wiped the memory of the whole world? But no, that doesn’t make sense. No… the mastermind has a very close, personal connection to this story. That’s why they had to hide it away.”

            “But what does that possibly have to do with any of this?” I said, hapless. “If they were trying to reenact the story, then they would have _wanted_ other people to know about the original, right?”

            “You would think,” she agreed. “Which leads to the conclusion that they weren’t reenacting it. But then, why?”

            Initial shock over, I began to take a closer look at the rest of the bunker. The rows of video games began about ten feet in front of me, leaving a fairly ample amount of space between them and the door. To my left, in the corner, was a small desk with a computer on it. A handful of files had been placed to the side of the mouse, and on top of them was a dully glimmering, golden object hanging from a chain.

            I walked over and pulled up the chain to find that a key was dangling from it. The top was decorated with a dark, glittering image of Monobear’s head, and the teeth were jagged and bright. I lifted it up and turned to face Olivia. “Is this your skeleton key?”

            She raised her head in surprise. “Yes, it is. But how did it get in here? I’ve never been in this room before.”

            She walked over and I handed it to her, watching as she studied it. Then her gaze dropped to the files on the desk. “Oh. So this was what he meant.”

            “What do you mean?” I asked.

            Her hand clenched around the key. “Max gave me this so that I could get into the bunker. He told me to do it as soon as possible, but I’d lost the key before I had a chance. He said… He said he’d moved some information into here, to help make things clear. He must have been talking about these files.”

            “Which means that whoever took the key must have also seen them,” I said slowly, glancing back. The folder was pitch black and slightly dented, with the logo for Hope’s Peak Academy stamped onto the front. It sat there almost imposingly, waiting for one of us to pick it up. My hand shot out and grabbed it before Olivia could react.

            When I opened it onto the first page, I was startled to see my own face staring back at me. At the top was my name, and underneath it my title, with a small mugshot next to it. And when I say mugshot, I do literally mean mugshot—the qualities of the photo were eerily prison-like. I was seen from my shoulders up, standing in front of a gray stone wall. My eyes were dark and narrowed and my hair was even more messy than usual. A blank frown blotted my features. Trying not to linger too long on the image, I glanced down to see that a small list of relevant information was included on the page: height, weight, age, birthday, and a small section for notes. Mine was blank.

            “Student profiles,” Olivia said softly.

            I began to flick through them. Each and every one of us had a page, all set up similarly to mine. I noticed immediately that the pictures were different, however: in contrast to my mugshot, all of the other students had zoomed-in, often grainy shots of themselves, as though they had been taken at a distance and in secret. I could still see each student’s features without much difficulty, however. Haley, Pam, Dani, Ryan, Calise… I paused at Max. His title was listed not as a series of question marks, but as Super High School Level Thief. “We’d figured out what his title was during the trial,” I said to Olivia. “This just confirms it, I guess.”

            “He told me before he died,” she said. “I… I shouldn’t have kept that from you.”

            I didn’t respond because the next page was Olivia’s. In her picture she was turned to the side, a gun loose in her hand, looking around. It looked very much like she was covered in blood—I prayed that it was some sort of red tint on the photo. Her height and weight were listed, but her birthday and age had been marked as N/A. And in her notes there was nothing but three words written: “Kill on sight.”

            “Not applicable…?” Olivia murmured—and then louder, angrier: “Not applicable? Wh… What do you mean, not applicable? Max died for me to find out that I’m _not applicable_?”

            “I…” My eyes searched the page for something that wasn’t there. “Maybe the mastermind removed it. Or they never found out what your age and birthday was.”

            “Then it would have been listed ‘Unknown’ or ‘Redacted,’” she said, hands in a death grip around the key. “Not _this._ This means it doesn’t apply. This means I don’t _have_ a birthdate. I don’t _have_ an age. I-Is this the mastermind’s idea of a joke? All this bullshit, all this death, for me to find out that I’m not applicable? Do they think this is funny? And why am I covered in blood? And w-why the fuck are they supposed to kill me on sight? If they’re supposed to kill me on sight, then why am I not already dead? Why can’t I die? Why can’t I die? Damnit, you stupid fucking file—! You were supposed to tell me, _why can’t I die?_ ”

            She made to lash out at the folder with a rage that I could never have expected, but at the last moment turned to the side and gripped the desk with both hands. She was near tears but not quite there yet, bracing herself back on a threshold that only she could see. Her breath came in slow, contained heaves.

            “This is my fault,” she said. “All of this is my fault. Everyone died while I lived. Ryan died because I was too much of an idiot to just go to sleep. Pam and Dani died because I decided to hide in the catacombs instead of look for answers. Jae and Ohanzee died because Jason was the only one brave enough to solve the puzzle—and it got him killed, too. Enoch and Gigi died because _I told her to kill him._ Gam died because I was too afraid to stop all of this, even though I knew I had to. Max died so that I could get answers, but now I’m too stupid to figure it out. So what did his sacrifice amount to? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. All of that bloodshed for nothing.

            “So what, I can’t die? I cheated death?” She turned and threw the key across the bunker, limbs taut with rage. “ _It’s fucking useless! I’m fucking useless!_ ”

            “Y-You…” I breathed. “Olivia, you can’t possibly blame yourself like that... Sure, you survived when the others didn’t, but… But you don’t even know _why_! That’s not your fault. Max left this file here for a reason. What we’re looking for may not be obvious, but… Max was smart. That means it’s here, somewhere. We can’t give up hope.”

            She huffed. “Hope… Well, you would be the one to say it, wouldn’t you.”

            It wasn’t a question. I stared at her. “You keep… hiding these things. Like you can ignore it and that’ll make it better. But we can’t do that anymore, can we? That’s what you’re saying, isn’t it? We can’t hide from this anymore. That’s what got us into all this trouble in the first place.”

            She nodded, slowly. Her breaths still came out in heaves, but she had calmed down considerably. “I just… I thought, when I came in here, I would find all the answers. I thought that’s what Max had left here.” A bitter smile crawled across her face. “But of course it was just another mystery. I should have known that it wouldn’t be anything but.”

            “We can still do this,” I said, voice firm. “This isn’t over yet.”

            “You’re right,” she murmured. “Of course you are. Let’s see the rest of that file, then.”

            The rest of the students’ profiles were as to be expected—until I reached the last one. Gam’s. The name at the top of the page read Harper Boyd, and in a smaller font beneath it, Gam Ponytore. What struck me immediately was the photo. She had a hood on, the ears of her hat poking through two holes in the top of it. Her eyes were the same striking color that I was used to—but virtually every other feature of her person was completely different. She was shorter and stockier, but lithe as well. Her face was more gaunt and sharply defined, eyes sparkling with something that I didn’t recognize at all. I was so busy staring at the picture that I almost didn’t notice what was written in the notes: “One of the Ponytore Sisters. High priority.”

            “Ponytore Sisters,” Olivia read. She huffed. “Would that be Caehl and Harper, then? I wonder which one came up with the name.”

            “Either way, _this_ one is Gam,” I said. “But this isn’t the Gam that we knew.”

            “Which means she was Caehl,” she said. “But then why did she think she was Gam?”

            “Good question,” I said, then pressed my thumb against the remaining papers in the file. “There’s still more profiles in here.”

            “Look for Caehl,” she suggested.

            I flicked through them. All of the names and faces were unfamiliar. Laura, Alex, Ari, Zachary. As I passed each face, a foreboding feeling grew in my stomach: What if these were people that I’d known? People who I had forgotten because of the mastermind? Where were they now? My heart was twisted into a knot by the time I stumbled upon Caehl.

            I almost went past it because the name at the top said Brianna Kitch. But, like Gam, beneath this was another name: Caehl Ponytore. Super High School Level Good Luck. The title made me pause: in order for her to be referred to as Good Luck, she would have had to be a part of a different class at Hope’s Peak than the rest of us. Was that really the case? Was she in the same class as the rest of these students? Trying to shake the empty questions away, I looked at her photo. The face was one that I recognized immediately. Although her eyes were a different color, this was undoubtedly the person that I had believed to be Gam. She was wearing a hood as well, but no familiar cat-eared hat. Her long, dark hair spilled out of her hood, face rounder and features fuller than those of her “sister.” She was also noticeably taller. The same words were written in the notes: “One of the Ponytore Sisters. High priority.”

            “That’s her,” Olivia said behind me, voice soft.

            “This doesn’t explain why she thought she was Gam, though,” I said. “And why do you suppose they changed their names?”

            She shrugged. “No idea. It made for a catchy title, though. ‘Ponytore Sisters.’ It sticks.”

            “And the eyes…” I added.

            Olivia didn’t respond immediately. At first I thought she didn’t know what to say, but then I heard clicking and turned to see that she was inspecting the computer at the desk. She glanced up at me. “Flynt, someone recorded a video on here. And recently, too.”

            At that moment, the bunker door opened and Neil walked in, followed by Calise, Haley, and Buck. They all looked around in surprise at the endless amassment of video game cases. Neil glanced our way. “What’s going on in here?”

            In response, Olivia opened the file on the computer.

            Gam’s face—No, not Gam’s. _Caehl’s_ face filled the screen, leaning over the computer, studying it. Once she had confirmed it was working, she leaned back. The bunker looked dark and eerie behind her, illuminated by nothing but the computer’s screen and the lantern at her side. She was quiet for a moment, expression morose. Then she started speaking.

            “I don’t know if anyone’s gonna see this,” she said. “I hope someone does. Flynt, maybe. I hope Flynt. Flynt, if you’re listening, you’ll know what to do. I know you, you’ll think of something.”

            She was quiet for a long, long moment.

            “When we thought Olivia was dead and we went to investigate her room… I found something in one of the pockets of her trench coat. A key.” She held it up. “I think this is what Max gave her. It can open literally any fuckin’ door on this campsite. I went to go see what it can do, and I… I ended up in here, in the bunker. There’s… There’s these files in here, Flynt. Files about us. And all these copies of _Dangan Ronpa_. I’m… I…” She hesitated, wincing. “This key. I know it sounds fuckin’ crazy but ever since I found the damn thing I can’t shake this idea that all of this is a trap.

            “What if… What if the mastermind killed Max? And he’s gonna lure one of us into being the culprit? When you think about it, all the evidence makes sense. I…” Her eyes searched the ground beneath her. She looked up at the camera. “I don’t know if I’m gonna get out of here alive.”

            I stared. This person was named Caehl. I did not know her. And yet, in the hesitation that clouded her movements, the occasional narrow of her eyes, the pull at her lips, something familiar was hidden. Something that I had once known well. Something that had once been close to me. A friend.

            Caehl shook her head. “But that’s not—that’s not the point of this recording. I-I-I found something in the files, Flynt. There’s a file about me. But… The girl in the picture… _isn’t_ me. I don’t look like her at all. I’ve never seen her before in my life. And then there’s a different file, about a different girl named Caehl. And she _does_ look like me. But my name is Gam, isn’t it? Not Caehl. A-And then the files seem to suggest that the two of us are related. But… But I don’t know this Caehl person. And I don’t know the girl in that picture. It’s—it’s…”

            She paused, a grimace flickering across her face. “Fuck, this must sound insane. But you look at it yourself. Anyone who’s listening. Look at that fuckin’ file. That’s not me. I’m…” she covered her face with both hands, groaning. “I’m sorta freakin’ out right now. Trying to keep it cool, but this shit is too much. Cause… Cause if I’m not Gam, then who is? And who the fuck am I?”

            She stared at the screen for a long moment. “Hope I get to see you later, Flynt. Or anyone, really.”

            The video ended.

            The bunker was quiet for a long moment. I opened my mouth to say something, but I was cut off by another, very much unwelcome voice from above: “Eh, I think that’s quite enough. It’s time for our school trial! Please hurry, everyone. You don’t want to be late to this.”

            We all glanced at each other. Most of us looked like we had something to say, but there wasn’t much _to_ say. Slowly, one by one, we began to file out. Olivia walked out ahead of me, but I paused, looking down. I’d noticed something next to the desk that I hadn’t before: a weapon sheath. “Hold on,” I said.

            Olivia turned. She blinked at the sheath in surprise. “Hmm, that’s new.” She considered. “Well, Max hadn’t wanted me to know that he had a weapon with him. I suppose he left the sheath here before he met me in the woods.”

            I retrieved Doran’s Blade from my jeans and clicked it into the sheath, strapping the whole operation to my belt. “What do you think?”

            She smiled. “It could be worse. Now come on, the last thing we want is to get in trouble with Monobear.”

            I followed her towards the door, but she paused before the threshold. “Hey… Flynt?”

            “Yes?” I said.

            “I wanted to thank you,” she said. “For what you did back there. Because what you said was true, you know. I don’t know how it is that I keep surviving, but… Whatever the answer is, I need to face it. And I would appreciate having your support when that time comes.”

            “I’m not going anywhere,” I said.

            I saw a light smile playing on her lips. “Well, I suppose I’ll have to find a chance to repay the favor.”

            “Whatever you say,” I grinned. “Now come on, what happened to not getting in trouble?”

            “I know, I know,” she said.

            We caught up to the others and the six of us walked to the grass clearing as a group. The opening down to the elevator was already waiting for us, so we wasted no time descending. I glanced up at the sky once more before we went down. Would it be the last time I would see it? I had to hope otherwise.

            The elevator creaked with its usual dark, foreboding noises as we descended. I was unbelievably afraid, but there was no going back now. Lights flickered and snapped in sharp lines across the walls of the elevator as we approached our destination. I had no idea what was waiting for me on the other side, but I was going to face it as bravely as I could. There was no other way.

            The doors opened onto a courtroom of hope and despair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha ha, I killed Orenronen.
> 
> You might have noticed the appearance of some new names in this chapter--Ari, Laura, Alex, and Zachary. They will be mentioned again, you can be sure. Both in this story, and in the next...
> 
> Although this update took a veritable age for me to write, I quite like it. I think it flows pretty nicely and has some lovely emotional moments. Also character development. I'm very happy with it.


	35. 6.2 "The God of Death"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> there was a girl

School Trial Part 2

            The banners had been changed to red and black, alternating one after the other across the whole of the courtroom. Monobear’s throne was gone; now he stood at his own podium, a part of the trial. His grin widened as we approached, teeth glimmering in the dim firelight. I wanted to run away now more than ever, but I forced myself to stand in front of my podium.

            “In case you couldn’t already tell,” the bear said. “I’ll be participating in today’s trial. I mean, it’s gonna be the last one and everything, so it’s only appropriate that I get to play a part. But, eh, I’m not really sure how you expect to be here?”

            He was looking at Olivia. I glanced to the side—the picture marking her as dead took up most of the space at her podium, the red X through her face like a mark of exile. “Courtroom rules say you’re not allowed,” Monobear said.

            She stared at him. She blinked a few times. Then she walked over to the podium, snapped the picture’s stand in half, and tossed it off to the side. “Is there still a problem?” she growled.

            The bear pressed a paw to his mouth. “Upupupupu… Nope, that fixes things nicely.”

            “Right, well…” Haley sighed. “I guess the first thing we need to do is solve Max’s murder.”

            “Great, then let’s cut straight to the point,” Buck said. “The mastermind did it.”

            “What?” Neil said, blinking.

            “Flynt can back me on this one,” he said. “I found a bullet in the tree that fell on Max. It was covered in blood, and easily could have made the hole in his chest. If he’d been shot as he was running towards that tree, the bullet would have gone through him and into the tree, being more than enough to knock it over. ‘Specially since it was already on fire.”

            I nodded. “It’s true. The sizes of the holes match up with the size of the bullet, both on the tree and in Max. It definitely points towards the mastermind: none of us have a gun, and we all know that there’s none on the campsite.”

            “Eh? What makes you so sure?” Monobear asked.

            “Well, because we’ve never found one,” Calise said. “And none of us have one in our bags or elsewhere.”

            “That doesn’t mean that there _isn’t_ one,” he responded. “Maybe you haven’t been searching hard enough. Or maybe one of you is hiding something. What about the catacombs? I’m sure that none of you have done a thorough enough search to know for a fact that there’s no guns in there.”

            “Come on, that’s not a real argument,” Olivia snapped. “This is a trial: you’re supposed to offer up any and all relevant information that you have. And you know better than anyone else whether or not we had access to guns. You’re just deliberately impeding our progress by not telling us what you know.”

            “I’m just stating the facts here,” he said. “If you want to prove me guilty, you’re gonna need a lot more evidence than a bullet. And anyway, isn’t this exactly what _you_ were doing during the investigation?”

            She didn’t have a response to that.

            “It’s okay,” Calise said. “We still have more evidence. I found a half-burned gasoline can in the forest where Max died. The culprit could have spread the gasoline around to start the fire and control which directions it went in. It would have made things pretty easy to set up.”

            “That means I was right,” Buck said. “That fire _was_ controlled. It explains how easy it was to put out, as well as how it was started in the first place.”

            “But why was the fire even necessary?” Haley asked. “We’re pretty sure now that Max was killed by a gunshot. Although the fire helped bring that tree down, it didn’t kill him. Why did they need it in the first place?”

            “It was meant to confuse us,” Neil said. “That forest is already hard to navigate, but with the fire going on, it would have been impossible for us to find Max in time to see what was going on.”

            “No,” Olivia shook her head. “I think it’s more likely that the fire was meant to confuse _Max._ ”

            “What do you mean?” I asked.

            “Think about it,” she said. “After killing me, he runs off into the forest. It would have been clear to anyone watching—like Flynt, for example—that he was trying to escape the campsite. A fire would have made that inconceivable. The flames would have trapped him and he wouldn’t have been able to tell one tree from another. In short, the culprit was trying to stop him from leaving.”

            “Wait, hold on,” Buck said. “After killing _you?_ ”

            She glanced my way. “Flynt, you better explain.”

            I took a breath. “On the night when Max died, I had been awake and saw him heading towards the exit. I told you guys this during the last trial. But… I left some things out, because we were keeping Olivia a secret. I followed him to a clearing where Olivia was waiting for him. They got into a discussion of some sort… I couldn’t hear them. Max was trying to give Olivia a skeleton key. When he turned to leave, she grabbed him and tried to stop him. They got into sort of a fight. Then he… Then he turned around and stabbed her.”

            Neil looked taken aback. He turned to Olivia. “Mind telling us what the two of you were talking about?”

            She hesitated. “Max… Max was telling me his plan to escape.”

~ ~ ~ ~

            _Cold outside._

_The air was thick and stagnant like murky water, its frozen touch biting at her skin. Frost was even beginning to gather on some of the leaves; the beginning of winter. The catacombs wouldn’t be any warmer, but this didn’t come as a comfort to her. The fact that Max had left this message meant that something was wrong. And the last thing Olivia wanted was more things going wrong._

_When he approached through the line of trees, it was like a shadow. He made no noise. It only took him a single glance to notice her, at which point he trotted up, footsteps still muted despite the increase in speed. He stopped only inches in front of her, lurching forward slightly as though he wanted to come closer still. His eyes were wide, hair tousled, expression haggard. Fear left him twitchy and agitated, but he suppressed it: he attempted to look put together, for her._

_They were both quiet for a moment. “Thank you for coming,” he said finally. “This is really important.”_

_“I figured,” she said. “You… Well, you only try to contact me when it is.”_

_He searched her expression. “I… You didn’t want to talk to me. I wanted to give you space. You don’t remember me, and you seemed so upset about it, so I thought I should leave you alone.”_

_“No, I know,” she said. “That’s not what I meant. You were right to give me space, I just… forget it.”_

_For a moment, he stared at her. It looked like he was going to say something else. Instead, he murmured, “I got past that door in the catacombs. The big armored one. I broke in.”_

_She didn’t know what to say. Fear pricked at her, briefly, but then she forced it down. “What was on the other side?”_

_He chose his words carefully. “Information. Things about you, a-and about me, and the other students. Why we’re here. What… What happened before all of this.”_

_“Can you tell me?” she said._

_“I don’t have enough time,” he said. “Because you were right. The mastermind is down there, in that half of the catacombs. And they saw me.”_

_“Who… Who was it?”_

_He stared at her. She could see the panic in his eyes, divulging into fear. He looked like he could break down at any moment. “I… I can’t… I can’t explain, there’s not enough time. I need you to listen to me. The mastermind… The mastermind is going to kill me. I know they will. So I’m going to try and run away.”_

_“What?” Her breath caught. “What, no…”_

_“I know too much, Olivia,” he said. “I could unravel all of the mastermind’s plans, if I had the time. That’s why I can’t be allowed to live anymore. They’ll do anything to stop me.”_

_“No… No,” she looked down, then closed her eyes, forcing herself to think. “You’re overthinking this. If you’re with the others, if you stay with them, then the mastermind won’t be able to kill you. They don’t want to risk being revealed, or ruining their plans by harming one of the others. That’s all you’ve got to do, okay? That’s it. Just stay with the other students.”_

_But even as she spoke he was shaking his head. “It’s not that simple. Not anymore. The mastermind… I-It’s not like it was before. I can’t explain, there’s no time… Just listen to me, okay? Listen. I stole this key. It’s the mastermind’s, it’s a skeleton key. You can use it to open any door on the campsite. I put some papers that I found in the bunker. I need you… I need you to take this key, and go read them. I couldn’t get any of the stuff that will really explain things, they saw me too soon, but this should at least clear up some questions.”_

_As he spoke, he pressed the key into her palms, as though willing her to take it. The look of the thing, the feel of the cold metal on her skin, shocked her system. Only then did she truly realize what was about to happen. The inevitable fate that neither of them could avoid. The fear returned, but this time she couldn’t suppress it._

_“No… No, Max, you can’t do this,” she said. She pushed back, trying to force him to take the key again. “It’s too dangerous. You’ll… You’ll… You can’t do this.”_

_“Please,” he said. “Please, do this for me.”_

_“No,” she said. She dropped the key in the dirt. “No! You’re going to get yourself killed!”_

_He stepped back. His jaw tensed. “Fine, then don’t do it. But I’m still going to try and escape. It’s the only chance I have.”_

_He turned to walk away, gradually picking up speed. Olivia lurched forward and grabbed his arm. He tried to resist her, but she pulled back. “You’re not going,” she heard herself say. “You’re not doing this. I won’t let you go.”_

_“Olivia-!” he yelled. “Please, there’s no time left!”_

_“No!”_

_“Why now?” He was trying to wrench her arm off of him, gripping her tightly. “Why do you have to start caring now?”_

_“You—I always cared!”_

_She looked up at him. His expression was hard to read, face bobbing in her vision. She thought she should say something else, beg him to see what she could see, but suddenly he dropped his weight. She pulled backwards, not expecting it, and he fell towards her._

_For a moment she thought he had regained his balance and grabbed her to keep her from falling. He was so close, it made sense: as though he were holding her in place. But then she felt the prick at her stomach, the white-hot pain that bloomed across her system. She felt the blood well up and spill over, dyeing her shirt red. Her thoughts spun in a daze. “Huh…?”_

_“I’m sorry,” Max said, voice soft. “I’m sorry, but I have to go. You’ll… You’ll be okay. When you wake up, you’ll forgive me.”_

_“You know… I won’t die…?”_

_His face twisted and blurred in her vision, turning watery, serpentine. He gently lowered her to the ground, hands slipping out from beneath her with unparalleled care. She could hardly feel the pain. When he pulled the sword out, it was like he’d pulled out the stopper on her well of emotions: as her breath left her so did everything that she had bottled up over the past weeks, pouring free like a waterfall. She was overwhelmed. She couldn’t move. When his lips brushed hers, it was like she was being set on fire. She could hardly hear his footsteps as he ran away._

_Max…?_

_Something pricked at her, and not for the first time. Something foreign, yet comforting; alien, yet familiar. Something that was very, very close to, but not quite, love. Her head spun. Did she love him? How could she love someone that she didn’t even know? It couldn’t be possible. And yet, as her blood streamed out, she couldn’t help but feel that she’d lost something just as precious as his life—maybe even moreso._

_She stared up at the peerless night sky. She could hear a distant crackling and hissing, like fire. She wondered what death would feel like with a heartbeat. Would it hurt more? Would she be able to feel—to hear—her heart slowing down? Her limbs felt numb and achy, and suddenly she was scared. Not for herself, not even for the other students, but for Max. He was in danger. More danger than he realized. She… She could have stopped him, right? If she’d been faster, if she’d thought ahead. If she’d come prepared for once in her life rather than leaving things to chance._

_She couldn’t be in love with him, could she?_

_How could she even know that she was the same Olivia he’d fallen in love with? She didn’t remember herself. She didn’t remember anything. What if the old Olivia had been braver, or smarter, or funnier, or wiser? Was she the kind of person who would have approached this situation with caution, or would she have had the whole campsite on its knees by the end of the first day? Was she a good girlfriend? Kind, sweet, loving, loyal? Would she have been able to save his life?_

_Olivia couldn’t answer any of these questions, but the more she thought about it, the more she realized that it didn’t matter. He wanted her back. He wanted her back no matter what. To him, it probably wouldn’t matter if she’d changed; so long as he could get her back, then everything would be better. Why hadn’t she realized that earlier? Why hadn’t she been able to just trust him?_

_Why… Why was she just lying here? She needed to… get up before it was too late._

_She couldn’t die yet, she had to…_

_Had to_

_…tell him… she_

_loves_

~ ~ ~ ~

            The courtroom was silent for a long moment. Olivia’s expression betrayed nothing, though her words had been dark and hollow. Max had never really wanted to kill her; he did it out of love more than anything else. I’d already known that much, but having the details filled in made it a lot harder to stomach. I didn’t know what to say.

            “Damn, that’s uh…” Buck glanced to the side. “That’s rough.”

            Neil took a deep breath. “Um… What did he kill her with?”

            “Doran’s Blade,” I said, then caught myself. “I mean, uh… the sword that Enoch had. The one Gigi used in his murder.” I hefted it from where it was holstered at my hip. “This one.”

            “What?” Haley blinked. “Where did he get it from?”

            “Yeah, and where did _you_ get it from?” Buck added.

            I took another breath. “I think Max must have found where the students’ bodies are kept in the catacombs. Because I found it too, during the investigation. It would explain how he got the weapon.”

            “But…” Haley hesitated. “Max seemed to be really close to Enoch. Would he really… rip a sword out of him like that?”

            “He was desperate,” Olivia said. “He needed a weapon. That was the closest and best option.”

            I nodded. “But he wanted to hide it from you, on the off chance that he had to… use it. So he put the sheathe in the bunker with everything else. We found it just before the trial.”

            “And where did he take the sword after killing Olivia?” Buck asked.

            “Gam and I found it stabbed in a tree,” I said. “I guess he just… wanted to get rid of it.”

            “Hang on, that doesn’t make sense,” Neil said. “Why didn’t he just leave the sword in Olivia? What was the point of removing it if he was just going to abandon it a few minutes later?”

            “It, um…” Olivia glanced down, eyes narrowed. “It… It takes longer for me to come back… if the weapon is still in my body. That’s why you all were able to perform an investigation after my first death. Because the piece of flint was left there.”

            Haley narrowed her eyes. “Does that mean someone removed it later?”

            She nodded. “It was nowhere to be seen when I woke up in the catacombs. But when the dehydration killed me, it wasn’t very long at all before I came back. That didn’t seem to add up at first, but when I came back after Max’s death… well, I figured that was as good an explanation as any. Whatever Max found in the catacombs must have explained the specifics of my inability to die.”

            I considered. I’d briefly taken out the piece of flint to study it during that first investigation. What if I’d left it out? Our story might have been very different if I had. Shaking the idea, I said, “Wait, this means that whoever put you in the catacombs had the same information as Max. They wouldn’t have had any other reason to remove the flint. So if it was the mastermind, then…”

            “They know why I can’t die, yes,” Olivia said. “I’ve thought about this.”

            We all glanced Monobear’s way. He leaned forward, resting his arms on the podium. “What’re you looking at me for? I’m just listening to you guys. Really fascinating stuff you’ve got going on here. Super useful.”

            “Wait a second,” Calise said suddenly, pressing her hands to her temples. “I know I’m really falling behind here, but I’m having trouble following this. Are you telling me that you _named_ the sword?”

            I blinked. “Well, um… It was Gam, actually…”

            “ _Doran’s Blade_?”

            “S-Sorry?”

            Buck frowned. “Hold up, Calise has a point here. Not about the name, even though that _is_ fuckin’ stupid. You say Gam found the sword with you? That means she knew about Olivia dying.”

            “Well, I…” I rubbed the back of my neck. “Gam had trusted me with the whole traitor thing. I figured… I don’t know, I had to get a second opinion on what to do. She seemed like the best person to trust.”

            “Hmm…” Monobear said. “That makes you look pretty suspicious, don’t you think?”

            “How could I be the mastermind when I’m right here?” I said.

            He shrugged.

            “How could _any of us_ be the mastermind?” Calise added, voice low. “We’re all right here.”

            “Monobear can’t be on some sort of recording,” Haley said. “The conversation is too natural.”

            “Maybe someone has some sort of device that they put text into?” Neil suggested. “And whatever they type, he says. But… we would probably notice if someone was typing, right?”

            “It’s possible that the traitor is controlling Monobear while the mastermind is in this room,” Olivia said. “But I can’t imagine what either of them would gain from the switch.”

            “But if we’re wrong,” Buck said slowly. “That means that the mastermind is someone else. Someone new.”

            “What if…” Neil hesitated. “What if the whole Gam-not-being-Gam thing was a fluke? That the recording we saw was faked? I mean, how did she even get into that bunker anyway?”

            Olivia shook her head, eyes narrowed. “No, she’s innocent. And… we should probably call her Caehl from now on. In order to… not get confused, I suppose.”

            “Fair enough,” Buck said. “So why is she innocent then?”

            “After my death, Caehl and Flynt went to investigate my room in the catacombs,” she began. “Although she didn’t tell Flynt at the time, she found the skeleton key Max had given me in my trenchcoat pocket and took it. That much was explained in the recording.”

            “That still doesn’t tell us whether or not she was really Caehl,” Calise murmured.

            “You’re right,” she said. “But Max left that evidence for us in the bunker. There was a Hope’s Peak Academy file containing student profiles about all of us. There was one for someone named Caehl _and_ one for someone named Gam. The photo in Caehl’s file looked like the person we knew—but the photo of Gam was of someone unfamiliar.”

            “So let’s just say she wasn’t lying,” Neil said. “That she really didn’t know she was Caehl and everything. Doesn’t that make the real Gam look… super suspicious right about now?”

            “Yeah, it does…” Haley said. Her gaze flicked towards Monobear and then away.

            Everyone was quiet for a moment. Then Calise said, “Maybe we should go back to Max’s murder. Make sure we’ve got everything in check before we try to figure out who the mastermind is.”

            “That’s a good idea,” Haley said. “I’ll summarize. Max snuck into the half of the catacombs that had been blocked off by that big steel door in order to find information. He used his talents as a Super High School Level Thief in order to do it. Inside, he found a Hope’s Peak file about all of the students, information about Olivia, a skeleton key, and presumably some other things. Before he could leave, the mastermind saw him. This made him believe that the mastermind was going to kill him, so he decided to try and escape. At some point during this, he found where the other students’ bodies were located in the catacombs, so he took… er, Doran’s Blade as a precaution. He left a note telling Olivia to meet with him. He broke into the bunker and put the student profiles and the weapon sheathe in there for Olivia to find. When he met up with her, he explained some of the situation and gave her the key to get into the bunker. She panicked and tried to stop him; he was forced to stab her in order to run. He was able to do this because he knew not only that she wouldn’t die, but also the specifics of her survival. That’s why he took the sword after stabbing her, so that she would come back quicker.”

            Haley took a breath.

            “Meanwhile, the culprit—probably the mastermind as well—got a gun and a carton of gasoline. They laid the gasoline out in the forest so that the fire would go in the directions they wanted it to, and then set it on fire. This also made it easier to put out after the matter, because it was under their control. As Max was running away from where Olivia had died, this fire was starting. The fire blocked his escape and made the forest even more disorienting than it already was. While he was trying to run, Flynt was talking with Ga—with Caehl. He had seen Olivia’s death and Max running off. He sent Caehl to wake the others and then went after Max.

            “The culprit also went into the fire looking for Max. Since they had set the fire and knew where it went, it was probably pretty easy to find him. Once they’d hunted him down, they shot him. This had to have been point-blank, because it was a clean wound that went straight through him, hitting a burning tree up ahead. The tree was already unstable, so it fell when the bullet hit it—and then landed on Max. Then the culprit fled the scene. Flynt found Max as he was bleeding out… it was too late to save him. He went to find the others, and ran into Caehl again, who had gone looking for him. At some point during this Olivia woke up, saw what had happened, and then returned to the catacombs. And then the investigation began.”

            “That’s a fuckin’ mouthful,” Buck muttered.

            “Wait, this has me thinking,” I said. “It started to rain around the time that I found Max, but it was thundering a lot before then. The culprit’s gunshot would have been easily covered up by that.”

            “Do you think they planned it that way?” Neil said.

            “It’s possible, but I don’t really think that would have mattered,” Olivia said. “They were going to shoot him either way at that point. It no longer mattered if the sound was disguised or not.”

            “But doesn’t that contradict everything we just figured out?” Buck asked. “I mean, all of the mastermind’s actions suggest that they wanted to _not_ get caught. They even set up the murder so that everyone else would look guilty. I think hiding the gunshot would have been pretty important to them.”

            Olivia shook her head. “No. I have a theory going… I think they had to keep themselves from getting caught more out of _necessity_ rather than _need._ In fact, I’d go so far as to say that they _want_ us to solve this murder right now.”

            “What?” I stared at her. “But why?”

            “It all points back to that story,” she said. “ _Dangan Ronpa._ ”

            “That’s the one that was on the disk, right?” Calise asked. “The one that made Jason go crazy, and that Enoch tried to figure out.”

            She nodded. “Much of what has happened on this campsite so far has paralleled—or been exactly the same as—what happens in that game. The characters are controlled by the same Monobear. They are all students from Hope’s Peak Academy. The first murder was an accident. The second murder involved two characters who saw themselves as siblings. The third murder was two deaths and the killer was someone who had done something insane—but justified. The fourth murder wasn’t a murder at all; it was a sacrifice. And the fifth murder was meant to mislead you—make you suspect and doubt characters who are completely innocent.”

            “But that’s… that’s fuckin’ impossible!” Buck growled. “We’re not characters in some fucking video game. We made those decisions, we made that shit happen, all on our own—not because it would parallel some story! This is fucking insane, we’re real people!”

            Monobear snickered.

            Olivia ignored both outbursts. “Our fifth murder has been closer to that of the first game’s, at least so far. The culprit is the mastermind—it was the same in the story. They tried to cover up the murder and push the blame onto two other characters. The first time around, it worked, just as it did in our case. But afterwards, their treachery was revealed by the female lead—Kyouko Kirigiri and myself. During the sixth trial, this one, the mastermind pushes them towards discovering their identity: because she _wants_ them to. She wants them to know who she is so that she can fill them with despair.”

            “What’s your point?” Calise said.

            “My point is that the mastermind wanted to emulate the game, so they tried to disguise Max’s murder, just as _Dangan Ronpa’s_ mastermind had during that fifth murder,” she said. “And they can’t control the weather, so the fact that the gunshot was disguised was nothing more than dumb luck. But it didn’t really matter much whether or not they were caught—because during this trial they plan on revealing themselves anyway.”

            “But in order for this trial to happen at all, they had to make sure they weren’t caught during the previous one,” I said, nodding. “It makes sense.”

            “What…” Haley’s eyes were wide. “Are you saying that they broke the rules, killed Max, and all but massacred Caehl for the sake of _imitating a video game_?”

            Olivia nodded, grimacing.

            “This is… this is really messed up,” Neil said.

            I took a breath and then turned to look at Monobear. “So how about it? Is that enough evidence for you? Will you admit that you’re the culprit now?”

            He pressed a paw to his mouth, trying to suppress his laughter. “Alright, alright, it was me. But the fact that I’ve admitted it doesn’t really mean anything until you know who I am. So how about it? Can you figure out who the mastermind is?”

            “No,” Olivia said. “I think we already have.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Otherwise known as, "How many times will Olivia reference Kyouko fucking Kirigiri before this story is over?"
> 
> You might have noticed that I broke tradition a bit with this one. The climax inference took place halfway through the trial, rather than at the end, and only featured a small snippet of the whole murder. There was a part of me that wanted to give you the full thing, but that would have involved going to the mastermind's POV. And in all honesty, I don't want to do that. Like, at all. Not even a little bit. Going to my own character's turned out to be much more rewarding anyway.
> 
> Also, forgot to mention this in the last notes: I wanted to do a Chapter Zero, and I even had a whole scene planned out with which to do it. But when I went to write the thing, I ended up skipping it. In the end, it was just going to be... unnecessary. Anything I could have covered in a flash back will be addressed on its own, so it would have turned into nothing more than a pointless bit of "fuck you." The whole point of the Chapter Zero in SDR2 was so that Hinata could have his fucking revelation about you-know-who. Circumstances are understandably different in this story, so there was no need to include it. 
> 
> The downside is that we don't get to see any of the pre-despair story yet. Sorry. I'm working on that, sort of.


	36. TD Ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> who changed reality

School Trial Part 3

            I felt the courtroom’s shift in emotion when Olivia spoke. Everyone seemed to go tense; even Monobear. After a long pause, the bear spoke. “Oh really? You think you know who it is, huh?”

            She nodded almost gravely. “Yes, I do. Show yourselves.”

            _Yourselves?_ My head echoed. _As in multiple?_

            A feminine voice sounded across the courtroom, firm and loud: “Prepare for trouble.”

            A male voice responded to her, eager and aggressive: “And make it double.”

            “To ignite the world in despairification!” she said.

            “To burn all peoples within our nation!” he said.

            “To denounce the evils of hope and love!”

            “To extend our reach to the cinders above!”

            “Laura!” the girl cried.

            “Aaron!” the boy shouted back.

            From the shadowy blanket over the elevator, two figures stepped forward. The first was a girl, fairly short, with her dark blonde hair pulled back into a wild, pointed ponytail. The second was a boy, considerably taller, with light, messy brown hair. Both were wearing white jumpsuits with black boots and fingerless gloves; painted on both of their chests in blood red was a large, capital letter D.

            “Team Despair,” Laura announced. “Blast off with the embers of light!”

            Aaron grinned wildly. “Surrender now or prepare to die!”

            “Upupupu,” Monobear purred. “That’s right.”

            “Wh-What?” Calise said. Her eyes were wide, unable to comprehend the situation before her.

            “What do you mean, what?” Laura snapped, one eyebrow raised. “Isn’t it obvious? We’re the masterminds. We trapped you guys in here.”

            “Yeah, geez,” Aaron said. “We’re the worst. Pay attention.”

            “But… But hang on,” Haley said. “We thought there was only one mastermind. All the evidence pointed to their only being one mastermind. How is it that there are two of you? How… Who… We don’t even know who you guys are!”

            “Well, that’s not _entirely_ true,” Laura said, waving a hand. “I mean, you _used_ to know who we are. But then we wiped your memories.”

            “Because we’re the worst,” Aaron added. “Remember how I just called us the worst? I’m restating that fact now because you don’t seem to get it. We’re the worst.”

            Laura nodded. “Yep. You guys totally trusted us and everything. We were like the best friends there ever could have been. Absolute besties. But then Aaron and I stabbed you in the back! Literally! With a syringe!”

            “You drugged us?” Buck looked between the two of them in confusion. “What the fuck? This is such bullshit!”

            “I don’t understand,” Neil said, expression one of helplessness. “If you guys were really our friends, then why…? Why would you do this?”

            “Because despair?” Aaron said, blinking as though the answer was obvious.

            Laura shrugged. “I dunno. Aaron said we should create some despair and I was bored so I was like, ‘Sure.’ So how did we do? Did we make a bunch of despair?”

            “Eh,” I said, waving my hand in as noncommittal of a gesture as I could manage.

            “What?” Aaron rounded on me, looking absolutely outraged. “What do you mean, ‘eh?’ This is easily the most despair-inducing thing to ever happen ever. Don’t give me that ‘eh’ bullshit.”

            I shrugged. “Sorry, but this is kinda… anticlimactic. I mean you guys ruined your entrance by pretending to be a discount Team Rocket and then threw the whole ‘we used to be friends thing’ in our face… and now you’re kind of out of surprises, right? Sure, it was a little shocking, but… There really isn’t anywhere to go from here.” I paused. “Also, Chapter 4 was way more despair-inducing than this.”

            Haley nodded in solemn agreement. “Yeah, that was way worse.”

            As I spoke, however, Aaron’s confidence slowly returned. “Aha! But that’s where you’re wrong, bitch! GG, surrender at 20! We _do_ have another secret. And it’s totally the best one out of all of them!”

            “Yeah!” Laura said, then paused a second later, glancing at Aaron. “Wait, we do?”

            He looked at us, then back to her, gaze flicking between the two rapidly. “Um, yeah,” he murmured. “The Olivia thing.”

            “What? I thought we weren’t going to talk about that. That’s not something we talk about. We don’t talk about that.”

            “No, no, I know,” he said. “ _We’re_ not going to talk about it. She is.”

            “I’m not getting involved,” Olivia announced a little loudly.

            “ _Yes_ you are!” Aaron said, beaming, crossing his arms over his chest. “So why don’t you tell everyone, Olivia. How is it that you knew we were the masterminds?”

            Neil glanced her way. “Yeah, I gotta admit, I’m a little curious about that. There weren’t any clues pointing towards it.”

            Olivia hesitated for a moment, looking around the courtroom and then over at Team Despair. Finally she sighed. “Oh, alright. I’ll tell you. The reason I knew is because this entire story is a lie that they created.”

            “What?” Haley said. “Story?”

            Olivia nodded. “None of this actually happened. The two of them secretly forced me to write an elaborate, over-the-top, 150 thousand-word friendfic for the sole reason of being able to feature in an alternate ending.”

            “But why didn’t they want to be the main ending?” Calise asked.

            “Because it would have been too obvious,” she said. “An alternate ending is their only option because it can be the true ending without being the _true_ ending. See, in order for the irony of this chapter to ring true, the entire main story had to be written seriously—from beginning to end. Because of that, the true ending couldn’t be theirs: instead theirs is the _second_ -truest ending.”

            “I don’t believe you,” Buck said flatly.

            “I wouldn’t expect you to,” she responded. “But Flynt proved it a couple paragraphs ago, remember? He referred to Gigi and Enoch’s deaths as Chapter 4.”

            “Damn,” I said. “That was super meta of me, wasn’t it? I didn’t even realize.”

            “Of course you didn’t,” she said. “If you did, it wouldn’t have been satirical enough.”

            “So this entire story,” Haley said. “Everything that happened to us… Was just a big, complex, ironic joke?”

            Olivia nodded. “Yes, but only in _this_ ending. In the true ending, it’s not a joke, because if it was, that would have defeated the purpose of the irony.”

            “Are their other endings?” Neil asked.

            “Naturally,” Olivia said. “The joke wouldn’t be complex enough if there were only two.”

            “So this isn’t the first time we’ve been here,” Buck murmured, realization dawning on his face. “Oh my god. This will never stop from keep happening.”

            Laura snickered. “Don’t you get it now? You’re all just a bunch of friends in a Facebook group that wanted to be immortalized in a fucking friendfic. That’s all this is. That’s all you’ll ever be.”

            “And Laura and I were pissed that we have to wait for the sequel,” Aaron said. “So we decided to destroy this reality instead! It’s way too fucking meta to exist. So you’re stuck here forever!”

            “Now that all of you started this, the only way to end it is with the true ending,” Olivia whispered. “But now that the alternate ending as begun, we can’t get to the true one anymore. For us, there is no way out. There will never be a way out.”

            “We fucked up, didn’t we?” I said. “We fucked up bad.”

            Olivia lowered her head in shame. “This is the stupidest ending in all of Re:kindle,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”

            The end, I guess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha ha.
> 
> Ha.
> 
> Ha...
> 
> Ahem.
> 
> Aaron and Laura have been excited about this for months. Everyone else will probably just be pissed off. But, eh, you know. The cookie doth crumble.


	37. 6.3 "Leaving a Story"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> with hair like fallen snow

School Trial Part 3

            The courtroom seemed to chill. I shifted where I stood at my podium, nervous and uncertain. The confidence in Olivia’s eyes betrayed something that I wasn’t entirely comfortable with: the unknown. I glanced at Monobear. He was watching her, silent.

            I felt like I should say something. Like it was somehow my responsibility to break this oppressive silence. But the words weren’t there, and even if they had been, I wasn’t sure if I would’ve been capable of using them. A dark, sticky black feeling was crawling up my throat and lodging itself behind my tongue, filling the space in my mouth: dread.

            “Alright,” Buck said slowly. “Who is it then?”

            “Junko Enoshima,” Olivia said.

            “What?” I blinked; my throat cleared briefly. “That’s a character in a story. She can’t be the mastermind! It’s not possible.”

            “Flynt, I can’t die,” she said. “I think it’s about time we threw logic and reason out the window.”

            “But…” My breath quickened. “Olivia, c’mon, let’s not go crazy here. Junko isn’t real.”

            She lowered her gaze, quiet for a moment. “Yes, I know. But try to forget about that for a second. Think about what makes sense here. Our mastermind is someone who found the story of _Dangan Ronpa_ to be very important to them. Crucially important. Someone who wanted to create despair. Someone who would go to any length to get what they want—such as blowing up a video game company or assassinating a translator. Junko Enoshima fits the bill perfectly.”

            I hesitated, looking around the courtroom. The other students didn’t seem to know what to say. “That… That can’t be possible.”

            Olivia’s eyes wandered up to our headmaster. “And if my theory is correct, then Junko will happily reveal herself right now. Even if my guess was incorrect she would do it. Because this story needs to work out the same way that _Dangan Ronpa_ did. How about it, Monobear? Prove me wrong.”

            The robot had gone absolutely silent. A second later, the gleam in his eyes seemed to fade and his head lowered, making him look lifeless and empty. All eyes were locked on him. We waited. It seemed as though nothing was going to happen. My throat filled with that blackness again, leaving me speechless and afraid, even though there was nothing there to be afraid of.

            And then, softly, almost modestly, the click of footsteps could be heard, approaching us from the elevator.

            I turned around.

            The Junko that I had seen in the beginning of the video game had possessed a strange look about her, like someone who felt and acted out of place. In comparison, the Junko in front of me seemed almost… sad. Her eyes contained absolutely no positive emotion, as though any shred of confidence or know-how that she had once held dear had been ripped away from her. She regarded us with something akin to disappointment—and then glanced to the side, demeanor suddenly business-like.

            “This really isn’t much of an achievement,” she said, voice flat and bored. “I’m sure you all are patting yourselves on the back right now, but I would avoid getting too prideful. When you think about it, it was obviously me from the beginning. It wouldn’t have made much sense if it was anyone else.”

            As she spoke, she walked towards the podium where Monobear was standing, pushing the lifeless robot aside with one light kick. She then leaned on the podium, head in her hands, looking for all intents and purposes like she might fall asleep at any moment. “At least, that’s what I’m telling myself, y’know?” she said, tone conversational. “If I give you guys too much credit for figuring me out, then that’s the same thing as accepting the inevitable truth I’m trying to avoid.” She sighed heavily. “Man, you guys were such a disappointment.”

            I didn’t know what to say. My brain seemed to have stopped. Haley’s was still working, though. “What…? I don’t understand,” she managed. “You’re a video game character. How is it that you’re the mastermind?”

            “ _Ugh_ ,” Junko heaved. “God, that’s so boring of you, y’know? Jumping to the big question like that? Hell, if I’m gonna answer every question you ask like that one, then we’d be finished up here in a matter of minutes! There’s supposed to be mystery! Suspense! Despair! And instead you want to jump right to the end?”

            She suddenly whipped a pencil out of one of her pockets, twisting it in her fingers and pinning it behind her ear as she took on a professional, business-like stance. “This just in,” she said in the urgent voice of a newscaster. “Haley-san is easily and without a doubt the most boring and predictable person in the courtroom! I don’t even know why she survived! This story would have been way more interesting if she was dead.”

            Olivia grimaced darkly. “Haley’s question may be predictable, but it’s still one that needs an answer. And we’ll figure it out whether you plan on providing it or not.”

            “In other news, Olivia-chan is still a clueless idiot! More on this at ten.”

            As I listened, I began to note Junko’s accent—clearly Japanese, though her English was quite clean. In fact, now that I was listening closely, I realized that I’d heard the same tenor of voice emerging from Monobear’s mouth. It had been hard to tell with all the static and the voice that she used for him, but it was definitely the same person. I stared at her with a morbid fascination.

            Buck was shaking his head. “It’s just a costume, right? This is just some asshole in a Junko costume. The real mastermind is pretending to be her. Right?”

            “What,” Calise said, tone unexpectedly sour. “Are you going to use this as more evidence that I’m the mastermind? It’s me in a cosplay or something?”

            “N-No, that’s not what I meant,” he said quickly. “I was just… I didn’t mean to…”

            “Whatever,” Calise said. “I know you think it’s me. It doesn’t matter.”

            Junko yawned.

            “Booooring!” she announced. “All of you! _Super_ boring. This was so pointless, really. I should have just killed you guys from the start. Maybe I could fill the courtroom with mustard gas right now? At the very least I’d get to see all your despair-filled faces as you choked to death!”

            Neil had a hand pressed to his lips in thought. “Hang on,” he said. “There’s gotta be a logical explanation for all of this. Be honest with us. Are you really saying that you’re the real Junko?”

            She gasped. “Everyone, give Neil-kun a big round of applause! He just wasted even more of our time by pointing out the obvious. Listen up guys: no matter what, I’m not gonna tell any lies, okay? You can totally trust whatever I say! And right now I’m saying that I’m Enoshima Junko. So that means it’s true, okay?”

            “But in order for that to be true, wouldn’t that mean that _Dangan Ronpa_ was real?” Calise asked.

            “Nope!” Junko said. “ _Dangan Ronpa’s_ fake. Super fake. Like, the fakest thing there ever was! And so am I! I’m not real at all.”

            Calise’s expression was rapidly growing more puzzled. “But that doesn’t make sense. In order for you to be Junko Enoshima, you would have to be real. You can’t be real and fake at the same time.”

            She shot Calise a critical gaze, one eyebrow arched. “Really? What makes you so sure about that? Just ‘cause you haven’t seen a fake person before doesn’t mean they can’t exist. Like, I’m fake, so I don’t have to follow your rules, y’know? I can do whatever I want!”

            Buck glared. “You’re not making any fucking sense!” he snapped. “Just tell us. Are you the Junko Enoshima from the video game or aren’t you?”

            “Um, of course I am!” she said. “Why would I be a Junko imposter? That would just be boring.”

            “But that means you’re a video game character,” Neil said. “And that should be impossible.”

            Her smile widened. “But that’s the funny part, see? It’s _not_ impossible. In fact, it’s pretty probable!”

            “What…?” I said, voice hoarse.

            “See, I became self-aware,” she said. “You guys know what self-awareness is, right? It means I realized that I was just some dumb character in a dumb video game.” Her hand wandered to her lips in a barely suppressed giggle, fingertips slipping into her mouth as she began to drool from some unknown stimulant. “ _Gawd_ , that was the most despair-inducing thing to ever happen! To realize that everything I’d ever done, everything I’d ever worked for, had been a total lie…? That _I_ was a total lie? Just some puppet invented to entertain people? It was too much! That kind of despair was overwhelming…!”

            “But… I don’t understand,” Neil said. I could tell by his expression that he was struggling to keep up—I was too. “If you really are telling the truth, that still doesn’t explain how you got here. To the real world.”

            Junko’s expression suddenly snapped to a blank, emotionless stare. “A self-aware character has accepted the truth that they are not real,” she said flatly. “And when you aren’t real, you can do whatever you wish. There are no limitations.”

            “So you just… teleported yourself here?” Haley asked.

            “Admittedly, it took some time,” she responded. “I had to locate the right universe, the real universe. But I was following a trail, so it wasn’t too hard.”

            “A trail?” Olivia said. “What do you mean, a trail?”

            “Yes, that’s right!” Junko said, a smile breaking across her face and her eyes going wide, emitting a childlike exuberance. “See, I’m not the first person to become self-aware. There was someone who did it before me! That person sent ripples across the whole of the _Dangan Ronpa_ universe. I felt that ripple, and became self-aware. Then I followed them into the real world. It’s all because of that person that any of this happened. Eheehee!”

            “Someone else,” Calise echoed, eyeing her. “So… a different _Dangan Ronpa_ character?”

            “Absolutely correct!” she cried, throwing her hands up. “Good job, Calise-san! But this isn’t a character who you guys would know about… See, they never actually showed up in any of the stories!”

            “How are they a character, then?” Buck growled.

            “They were just an idea,” she said softly. “A scrapped character! The writers were _going_ to use them, but then they came up with a bunch of better characters. This one was super lame and boring. I’m glad they were never used.”

            “Wait…” Haley murmured, frowning. “You said you followed the scrapped character into the real world, right? So does that mean they’re here right now?”

            Junko nodded. “Yep. In fact, they’re in this very room!”

            “The… The traitor?” I said.

            “No,” she waved a hand. “That would be too simple, you know? Kinda boring!” She let out a long sigh, eyes wandering around the courtroom. “In case you aren’t following, I’ll say it again: this scrapped character and I aren’t real. We’re just ideas.” She giggled. “And funny thing about ideas… They can’t be killed.”

            The room seemed to drop in temperature.

            For a long, seemingly endless moment, no one dared to speak. Every fiber of my being felt like it was frozen solid. I finally mustered up the energy to look Olivia’s way; her eyes were wide, unblinking, staring at Junko—comprehending but not accepting.

            The air left her in a single breath. “Can’t… be killed…?”

            “That _is_ what I said,” Junko snapped, personality now slipping into an annoyed, disinterested façade. “Of course it’s only the logical conclusion. A character is a concept, invented in someone’s head. And a concept—an idea—can’t be destroyed. So when a character becomes self-aware, they’re still an idea. As such, Olivia-chan could never die. Pretty simple, really.”

            “I’m… just a character?” Olivia said. A short hitch of a breath ran through her system. “No… not even that… I’m just an idea that no one liked enough to keep.”

            Junko nodded. “Yep. You were a super lame character, too. They’d never even given you a name! I don’t know where you got Olivia from, but clearly you came up with it yourself, ‘cause the devs didn’t bother with it.” She snickered abruptly. “I gotta say, I’m a little jealous though… that must be quite the despair you’re experiencing right now! This is your second time finding out that you’re not real—and this time’s even worse, cause the people around you are! I wonder if you’ll become Super High School Level Despair again?”

            Her expression somehow fell even further. “A…Again?”

            “Yep!” She smiled. “I mean, what else would have happened, y’know? When you found out you weren’t real, you totally went off your rocker. Flying around different universes, looking for the real one, causing game glitches and ruining stories. And when you finally _did_ find the real one, the first thing you did was destroy Max Barrett’s life. Falling in love with a girl who isn’t real? What a terrible, despair-inducing thing to bring someone to!”

            She lowered her gaze. “I was Super High School Level Despair.”

            “You might as well have been worse than me,” Junko said. “I mean, I showed up in the real world not long after. But I had a plan, y’know? I knew what I was doing. You were doing whatever the fuck you wanted to, with no care as to who it affected or the consequences that followed.”

            I finally found my voice. “What… What was your plan?” I asked her.

            “Oh, it wasn’t anything too original,” she said. “See, when I realized that my whole reality wasn’t real, it occurred to me that all of those despair-based tests I’d done at Hope’s Peak had been pointless. Those people weren’t real! The despair they’d experienced—the despair I’d given them—meant nothing. I had to see what would happen if I tried it in the real world.”

            I tried to open my mouth to respond, but then she continued. “And the results were _very_ informative: you all are no better than a bunch of characters in a story! Maybe even worse! You fell for all the same traps, made all the same mistakes. I mean, I thought the point of stories was to help people escape from the real world. But both the real world and the fake world reached the same inevitable outcome! I was hoping for something new and exciting—but all I got was the same old story.”

            Buck released a long, slow breath. “Wait. Hold up a fuckin’ second. If you… If you really redid all of that shit that you did in the game, then… what happened to the rest of the world?”

            “It descended into all-out war, of course,” she muttered. “Thousands of Super High School Level Despair, herded and trained by me, against the weak-willed and hopeless armies of all the nations across the globe. It was a despair-inducing massacre on both sides.”

            “You mean you got real people to fall into despair?” Haley asked. “People from the real world?”

            “Weren’t you listening to what I just said?” she snapped. “Your entire planet was just as predictable and boring as the universe that I came from. They fell into despair just as easily as the people who were written to do so.”

            “You… destroyed the whole world?” Neil said, voice cracking.

            “No,” she said. “ _You_ did. Trying to fight against something as unstoppable as despair. All of you broke down your own world, one drop of blood at a time.”

            Calise seemed to be searching Junko for a shred of something good. “So… There’s no one left? Just us?”

            She waved a hand. “Eh, I’m sure there are _some_ survivors, but not a lot. The entire planet’s a wasteland at this point.”

            She said it with such striking indifference that it chilled me to my core. I struggled to think of anything worth saying—anything that could bring us back from such hopelessness. But Junko’s words were final. There seemed to be no way around them; no way to see the light at the end of the corridor. Was there even any light left? I wasn’t sure anymore.

            Buck was tightly gripping the podium with both hands, veins sticking out on his arms. “Okay. Alright. Fine, whatever. I just got one more question. Where the fuck have you been hiding this whole time?”

            “The other end of the catacombs, of course,” she said. “Y’know, the blocked off area, with the big door? Where else would I have been?”

            Haley breathed in sharply. “That was where Max had been looking for information. And he told Olivia that the mastermind had seen him…”

            Junko nodded sagely. “Yep, that’s right. You should have seen the look on his face when I found him! Absolutely _wretched_ with despair. I don’t blame him, considering what he’d been reading. All that stuff about Olivia, not being real, being the cause of everything that happened here… it would have torn anyone up.”

            My gaze flicked towards Olivia again. She hadn’t moved since the last time she’d spoken, eyes still wide and head still lowered in a silent, horrified vigil. I wanted to say something to her, but the words weren’t there. Nothing was there. I felt helpless.

            “It’s like I keep saying,” Junko continued, grabbing my attention. “All of this _is her fault._ If she hadn’t gotten caught up in her own personal despair, in her stupid self-pity, then none of this would have happened. All of you would have been safe and happy in your real world, and we would have been bored and clueless in ours. The way things are _supposed_ to be. But because of her, that’s no longer the case.”

            “No.”

            Olivia’s voice was so sharp and dark that I almost didn’t recognize it as hers. My gaze snapped in her direction. She had closed her eyes—I had no way of knowing what was going through her head, but her expression seemed to suggest something long buried coming to the surface, catching the wind and taking flight against Junko. I might have been imagining it, but the room seemed to grow warmer.

            “You’re wrong,” she said, softly—and then again, louder. “You’re wrong. I may not have my memories, but that’s only because you stole them. That doesn’t mean I can’t know my own heart. That doesn’t… that doesn’t mean I can’t still fix this. That doesn’t mean everything is my fault.

            “You know, Junko, I’m the one who read the story,” she continued. “I read the whole of both of them because you left them in the catacombs for me to find. I know who you are, where you came from. I know that you’re a hypocrite and trickster and too caught up in yourself to know when you’ve crossed a line. Or maybe you _do_ know when you cross a line. Maybe you do it on purpose. But either way, it always leads to your demise. And I’m going to make sure that demise takes place today.”

            As she lifted her head, she began to open her eyes, slowly. For a tricky moment the light seemed to catch her irises and the sides of her eyes were set ablaze in my vision—but then I realized that it wasn’t a tricky moment. That her eyes really were alight. That her pupils were glowing the brightest red, gleaming like blood on chrome, like the heart of the sun. That white was running like a waterfall down the top of her head, dying her hair the color of snow. That suddenly she seemed alive, and real, and frightening, and _enlightened_ , and absolutely nothing could stand in her way.

            “I’m tired of your speeches, Junko,” she said. Her words seemed to drip honey yellow, sweet and thick like molasses and drunk on power. “It’s time I gave one of my own. You said yourself that all of this was boring and predictable—the same old story, over and over again. But all you’ve done since this trial began was repeat yourself. The same sad lines about hope and despair that you feed everyone else. Where’s the excitement in that? If you want to talk about boring, _that’s_ what’s boring.

            “I’ve spent the last few weeks doing nothing but doubting myself—who I was, what I was capable of, where I’d come from. But I know now that the person I should have been doubting was _you._ You’re the mastermind, not me. This is _your_ fault. And I will _not let you win._ You’ve had your fun, your despair. But that’s over now. All of this is over now. We’re leaving.”

            Junko stared at her. I stared at her. All of us stared at her. She filled the courtroom with a presence like none other, sapping the life from Junko and her speeches. Everything was heat and light and the fire licking off the tips of her eyes. I was rendered speechless.

            “Hmm,” Junko said, after a long moment. “I see. You’re leaving. Does that mean all of you, then?”

            “Absolutely,” she said, without hesitation.

            Junko cocked her head to the side. “Really? Even the traitor?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Talk about an info dump.
> 
> You might have noticed, in the description of Olivia, I mentioned blood on chrome. This is a callback to the song Awoken by Wooden Toaster, which is one of a few enlightenment songs that I have in the playlist.
> 
> SDR2 spoilers up ahead watch out  
> ~ ~ ~ ~ 
> 
> So let's talk a little bit about the concept of enlightenment.  
> Something I've always found a little bit odd about the first game was how... completely pointless Ishimaru's enlightenment was. I mean this in the nicest way possible, but let's be real here. It served literally no purpose. He went enlightened and then died.  
> Hinata's was more or less the total polar opposite of that. His enlightenment was literally the climax of the entire game. The story's resolution was brought about as a result of his enlightenment. So that's, you know... kind of the most important thing in the entire story.  
> The narrative has always been very sparse on what enlightenment /is/, exactly, but with these two dichotomies in mind, I like to think of Ishimaru's as a failed enlightenment and Hinata's as a successful one. Ishimaru went enlightened for the wrong reasons, while Hinata went enlightened for the right ones. I could discuss my reasoning for that to death (again), but it doesn't have much to do with my point here, so I'll be moving right along into how this relates to Olivia.  
> I rationalized to myself that Olivia was the only character in the entire story who could go enlightened (save for Junko, which none of us want), because she's the only one who is an actual DR character. And enlightenment is kind of a "DR-only" thing. And of course I wanted hers to be a successful enlightenment, which it was. But the trick here was that I couldn't let her take all the glory, because she's not the protagonist--in the end, Flynt needs to be the one who has the shining moment.  
> The only way to remedy this, unfortunately, was by having Junko shoot down Olivia's speech at the end of the chapter. Something I didn't really like doing. But I think my plans for the way the end of this story plays out will make up for it. Here's hoping, at least.


	38. 6.4 "Who Are You?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> and eyes as bright as the sun.

School Trial Part 4

            Olivia tensed at Junko’s question, narrowing her bright red eyes. I felt my heart pound. In the heat of the moment, it seemed as though all of us had forgotten about the existence of the traitor. After Olivia’s speech it seemed hard to believe that any of us could turn out to be a betrayer, but the confidence with which Junko spoke made my body go rigid.

            “None of us are a traitor,” Olivia said finally. “I refuse to believe it. I trust the five people in front of me without doubt. And I trusted the students that died, as well. You must have made it up. There is no traitor.”

            She giggled. “Nope! I told you guys, I wasn’t going to lie to you. There’s a traitor alright! Of course, they might not be a traitor _anymore_ …”

            Olivia sighed. “I’m not playing your games anymore, Junko. Just explain what you’re saying.”

            “I’m simply implying that all of you have had your memories stolen,” she said. “Who’s to say that the traitor doesn’t remember being a traitor?”

            “What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.

            “I don’t know, Flynt-kun,” she said with a smile. “How about you tell me?”

            “What?”

            “Well, you’re the traitor, of course. It’s not like it could have been anyone else. So go on, explain yourself. Or maybe you don’t remember? Maybe I took those memories away from you? Aw, what’s the matter, Flynt-kun? You look scared.”

            My voice was lost in a sea of fear. Traitor? Me? I’m the traitor? Her words didn’t make sense. They rained down hard against the heaps of logic and reason that I’d built up around myself, beating my defenses raw. I had… betrayed everyone? But that couldn’t be. How could I let myself forget something so important?

            Junko sighed, looking disinterested. “I guess this is kind of a shell-shock. Not what you were expecting, or whatever. But standing there like a deer in the headlights is really boring, don’t you know? Everyone’s looking at you, Flynt-kun. It’s your turn to say something.”

            “No…” I said, voice hoarse and alien, like it belonged to someone else. “No, I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t do that to everyone. That’s not… that can’t be right.”

            “Really?” she said. “I think you’re just saying that. I think you know I’m telling the truth. You’re just trying to avoid it.”

            “N…No…”

            “Come _on_ ,” she said, impatient. “Did you think you just woke up with that ahoge for no reason? It was your idea. You put it there yourself. Styled it yourself. Told me it would be funny, since we were recreating the story. Someone had to be the protagonist, you said, so it would be you.”

            “I—”

            “Don’t you dare try to tell me that you wouldn’t do something like that,” she snapped. “You were more than happy to work with me. You were sad and alone when I showed up. Everyone you knew was distracted by Max-kun’s new girlfriend, the mysterious one who seemed to have come from nowhere. No one cared about you anymore. And sure, his girlfriend was nice to you—she was nice to everyone. Perfectly nice, perfectly stoic, like a picture. Everyone _loved_ her. And all of you were fans of _Dangan Ronpa,_ you know? You guys loved that story. So when Enoshima Junko shows up in your backyard one night, you thought to yourself that maybe you’d be better off with her.”

            Her words cut right through me, and I hated her for it. But in the reflection of my own shattered visage, I could see what she meant with perfectly clarity—the evidence had always been there, hidden from view and yet in plain sight. The photo of me in the student profiles. Everyone else’s had looked like action shots, or rips from a security camera, but mine had been a proper mugshot, taken with intent and purpose. Had Junko been the one behind the camera? It seemed now like there could be no other answer.

            The notes in the catacombs. Pages upon pages of execution ideas for the students. There had been two writers—someone in pink ink, leaving notes for another person, the original typist. The pink text could have been no one but Junko, but the original author... The original author was me. I was the one writing the executions, preparing to kill my friends.

            And the dream I’d had the night Pam died. Running after someone in the forest. Through blurred vision I could clearly see now what I couldn’t that night. The girl I was chasing after was Junko. She disappeared down into the catacombs, but I wasn’t worried. I knew what I needed to do. There was a vial in my hand, filled with the amnesia potion. All I had to do was drink it. For her, for Junko—

            She laughed darkly. “Aha, I can see it now! The lovely despair on your face… You know what you did. How you betrayed everyone for me. How you became Super High School Level Despair. How does it feel, remembering those things? It must be the most despair-inducing thing you’ve ever felt!”

            “This… This wasn’t…” I took a shuddering breath. “You brainwashed me. You made me think what I was doing was the right thing.”

            “Upupupu…” she purred. “Flynt-kun, that doesn’t mean anything. I brainwash everyone. I wasn’t seeking you out or looking for you specially. You _chose_ to become my confidant, my best friend in the real world. I didn’t make you do anything.”

            I’d lost my voice again, but Olivia was there to rescue me, eyes ablaze and expression indignant. “That’s enough, Junko. What you’re saying doesn’t matter. You made me forget _everything_. Flynt and I both became Super High School Level Despair, but what he’s done can’t be nearly as bad as the things I did. It’s in the past now. Clearly he has moved on from that.”

            “Really?” she said. “You really think so? What if I could give him all of his memories back? Would he still have ‘moved on’, or would he become Super High School Level Despair again?”

            “I don’t know,” she said. “But it doesn’t matter. He is my friend, and I will defend him no matter what.”

            Her gaze flicked, for a hesitant moment, in the direction of the other students. Calise spoke immediately and without a shred of doubt. “I’m with Olivia. I don’t know what Flynt did in the past, but that’s the past now, right? The only things I’ve seen him do have been good things. Even if he was the bad person that you say he was, I’m going to stand by him. He’s changed now.”

            Buck nodded rapidly, his head lowered. “Calise is right. I’m not fucking around with some bullshit that happened in the past.”

            “Same here,” Neil said. “Flynt is our friend.”

            Haley was looking down. Something about her troubled expression struck me where I stood, hitting harder than any of the other students’. After a moment her eyes wandered slowly upwards and she said, “I would think, if I was Flynt, I would be feeling pretty horrible right now. More horrible than I can even imagine. And when I think of how nice he’s been, all the things he’s done for everyone… I could never wish such a horrible feeling onto a person like that.”

            Junko glanced at each of us in turn, eyes narrowing. “Hmm,” she said. “Very well then. I guess I’m going to have to tell everyone the story of what he did.”

            “Don’t bother,” Olivia snapped. “It won’t change our minds.”

            “No,” I heard myself say. “I want to hear… I want to know what I did. I need to know what happened.”

            Olivia’s eyes widened slightly, but she fell silent.

            Junko smiled lightly at me, and in the next heartbeat she was speaking. “Flynt-kun was the first person I met when I arrived to the real world. He was sorta scared of me, since he knew who I was, but he let me stay at his place, which was nice. He was really sad. He felt worthless. He felt like his friends didn’t care about him anymore. He happily embraced despair.

            “I told him about how I wasn’t real, how I’d jumped universes to get here, chasing Olivia-chan. I told him that I wanted to despair-ify the real world: take it over to see if things were any different here than they were in the _Dangan Ronpa_ universe. The idea frightened him at first, but after a while he grew to like it. So we built an army of despair and started an all-out war against the nations of the earth!”

            She leaned forward. “We call that event the Worst, Most Despair-Inducing Incident in the History of this Universe. Get it? It’s a joke, since Olivia-chan and I came from a different universe. People didn’t take it seriously at first. ‘Cause they didn’t think I was the real Junko, just an imposter or something. But after a while, they started calling it that for real. ‘Cause they were scared of me.

            “All of you guys decided to try and band together to fight my army of despair. But it didn’t work very well, because all of you live in different places and got split up really quick. Plus, I was trying to hunt all of you down, so it was especially dangerous for you guys. A lot of you were really worried about Flynt-kun. He wasn’t answering anyone’s messages or phone calls. Some of you thought he must have been killed! But of course… he was still fine. He was just with me.

            “When the war was just starting, Flynt-kun and I went looking for a place to have our mutual killing at. We found this campsite. Murdered everyone inside. Then Flynt-kun got the really great idea for us to build some tunnels underneath the place! That way I would have somewhere to hide out during the mutual killing. It took basically the rest of the war to do it, but we did it, y’know? And it turned out to be really helpful too!”

            Olivia’s jaw was clenched. “And where is this campsite, anyway?”

            She shrugged. “I don’t know. America. Arizona, I think? I don’t really pay much attention to stuff like that. Anyway, we knew that we were gonna have to give everyone an amnesia drug, so you guys wouldn’t remember all the important stuff, like Max-kun’s talent or Olivia-chan not being real. I’d already made one before, of course, so that wasn’t really hard. But because I wasn’t real, I was able to make it even stronger! I mean, when you’re not real, you can do whatever you want, right? So I made a drug that could destroy specific memories, or make people think specific things. Pretty clever of me, yeah?”

            I shook my head, trying to think clearly. That was what was in the vial I’d been drinking from? I really did that? I let myself forget everything for her?

            “Wait a minute,” Neil said. “If there was this whole war going on… That means we were never invited to Hope’s Peak, were we?”

            “That’s right,” Junko said. “In fact, Hope’s Peak never existed. I mean, of course it didn’t, it only exists in my universe. But I made up the American campus and put it into all of your heads so that you would think you’re supposed to go to Hope’s Peak Academy! Your talents aren’t real either, by the way. Why would they be? That sort of thing doesn’t belong in this universe, y’know?”

            Of course they weren’t real. Of course they weren’t. But it still hurt to hear her say it; that these things we’d seemingly built our lives around had been nothing more than lies. I didn’t even know why it affected me so much—Good Luck was hardly a talent, made even less impressionable by the fact that a despair-induced version of myself had come up with it—but I still felt my stomach twist regardless.           And of course the part about Hope’s Peak just made it worse. I remembered Ryan and I’s conversation when we’d first arrived at the campsite. How everything leading up to this moment had been a blur; neither of us could pick out a specific detail or moment. I understood why now.

            The other students’ expressions ranged from frustration to horror. I saw that Olivia had her teeth grit together, watching Junko in a terse silence. Her talent was still real, of course, because she wasn’t. I couldn’t imagine what was going through her head.

            Junko sighed lowly. “Anyway, soon the war was coming to an end. But we still hadn’t captured you guys! It was getting kind of annoying, you know, how good you guys were at avoiding us. So Flynt-kun came up with this great plan. He got all of you together in a chat group on the Internet—since you all met through the Internet, you didn’t think it was weird. He apologized for being missing this whole time, and said that he’d found a really cool place in the forest where all of you could hide from me. You’d be together and able to protect each other.

            “Not all of you agreed to it. Some of you thought it was suspicious. See, there were more than 16 of you! That’s another memory I took from you guys. You had a bunch of other friends, and they weren’t interested in Flynt-kun’s plan. But 15 of you had agreed, and that was all Flynt-kun and I needed, y’know? Anyway, soon you 15 showed up at the campsite. We’d already set up the fence, so I just turned it on, and then all of you were trapped! Then he drugged each and every one of you, one by one. And then he drugged himself, to make 16 students. Wasn’t that sweet of him?

            “The other students found out that something had gone wrong, though,” she said. “It was that silly Caehl-san! She decided to pretend to be Gam-san, because she was suspicious. She thought that if everyone recognized her for who she really was, that would be proof that they weren’t in any danger. But then Flynt-kun started drugging everyone. While she was hiding from him, she somehow got a hold of the real Gam-san and told her what was going on. That made me really angry, y’know? So I made her amnesia potion special. I made it so she would forget who she really was and think and act like Gam-san instead! It worked out really well.

            “And anyway, it turned out to be a good thing, because then all the other students tried to rescue you guys. So Flynt-kun and I rounded them all up and trapped them in a prison. In fact, they’re still there! I thought that maybe, if the results from this round were good enough, I could put them in a mutual killing situation too. But I don’t think I want to anymore, y’know? You guys kind of ruined it.”

            My heart was pounding hard. I remembered the names that Olivia and I had read in the student profiles—Laura, Zachary, Alex, Ari. Names that were strange to me now, but must have once been familiar. I had imprisoned these kids? But… why? Why would things have become so horrible for me to think that any of this was a good idea?

            I deceived everyone for the sake of helping Junko; played with their trust to make them come to this campsite. Sunk to my most deplorable, most pitiable low, for reasons that I no longer remembered or understood. Threw my life away for something as esoteric as despair. Gave up everything for… for what? Why would I do such a thing?

            “Well, that’s the whole story,” Junko said. “I don’t really have anything else to say now.”

            Was it true that she brainwashed me? That I was driven to such an extreme by her actions?

            “It doesn’t matter,” Olivia said sharply. “I still refuse to fall into your despair.”

            Or…

            Or was I really so terrible of a person that I would have done those things anyway?

            “Really?” she responded. “Well, what about your friends? What do they think?”

            Olivia glanced to the side to see that the others had their heads lowered, lips folded into thin lines, silent. Dark, troubled things hid in the dark spots of their irises. Neil glanced Olivia’s way, then down again. “It’s… really hard to take in,” he said, tone almost apologetic.

            “Flynt was…” Buck hesitated. “That was really fucked up.”

            Calise searched her podium for answers. “I’m not sure what to say…”

            “I… I’m…” Haley couldn’t manage anything else.

            I saw a hint of concern flush through Olivia’s system, hands lifted off her podium as though she were looking for something productive to do with them. “Wait,” she said. “Wait a minute, you can’t give up that easily. That Flynt is gone now, isn’t he? This Flynt is different. He’s better. We can’t base what happens next on something that happened in the past.”

            I took a long breath. “Just give it up, Olivia,” I murmured. “They’re right. Someone like me, who would do things like that… I don’t deserve to live. People like us, who make mistakes like that… What’s the point? We’re just going to make the world worse. We should give up.”

            “Wait…”

            “He’s right,” Haley said softly. “You can’t die, Olivia. You don’t need to worry about that sort of thing, but we… This is too much. I don’t want to fight anymore.”

            The others were nodding, too overcome to speak. I glanced Junko’s way, and was startled to see that she looked genuinely surprised, her eyes wide and her mouth half-agape. She studied each of us in turn and then suddenly, abruptly busted up laughing.

            “Haha… Ahahahaha…!” She struggled to catch her breath. “This is…. This is it? This is the difference between real people and characters? Characters will fight to the end, but real people will just throw in the towel? That’s it…? I… I can’t believe the strength of your weak wills! You’re incapable of overcoming even your own selves! What… what a horribly rich despair!” Her words were swallowed by laughter once more. None of us knew what to say.

            “I wasn’t expecting this,” she said when she had calmed down. “I’ll have to prepare the executions. You all can wait here, okay? I won’t be long!”

            She slipped into the elevator. Soon the doors had closed and she was gone. A small part of me considered the idea of trying to escape while she was away, but I almost immediately decided against it. What was the point? It wasn’t going to help anyone. It was better to just give up.

            No one had much of anything to say. I turned and leaned back against my podium, lowering myself to the ground. Time passed.

            After a while I became aware of a murmuring nearby—I turned to see that the others had abandoned their podiums, milling around the courtroom with a restless sense of despair. Buck and Calise were sitting on the floor a few feet away, talking in hushed voices.

            “…Didn’t mean it,” Buck was saying. “I just… I just wanted you to know that. You know, before we die.”

            She glanced down. She was facing away from me, so I couldn’t see her expression. “I… I always knew that, Buck. Really. I was just being mad at you for the sake of being mad, I guess. You didn’t mean any of those things. You didn’t really think I was the mastermind. I know that.”

            “But it was wrong of me, still,” he said, making a face. “I just keep doing this, you know? Where I let my temper go and ruin myself and ruin other people. It’s not right. I… You didn’t deserve that, Calise. You least of all. You’ve been good to everyone.”

            She laughed weakly. “You can’t read my mind. Who’s to say that I’m the worst out of all of us?”

            He smiled, but it soon faded. “Well, we’re going to die now. So it doesn’t matter much anymore, does it?”

            “I guess not.”

            I glanced in the other direction. Haley and Neil were leaning against the far wall, eyes half-closed in a pitiable exhaustion. Neil had his arms crossed in his lap, frowning at Haley as she spoke.

            “I don’t think you should blame yourself like that,” she said. “So much has happened since we got here… No one person can be responsible for everything. You tried your best.”

            “And my best wasn’t good enough,” he said. “I wanted to save people. Bring everyone together. Make things okay. But instead I failed. And more people died because of it. That’s all on me.”

            She shook her head. “You’re giving yourself too much credit. We can’t… we can’t control things like that. We’re only human.”

            He was quiet for a moment, then shrugged. “Eh, it doesn’t matter much. We’re going to die now anyway.”

            I stared at them. I felt like saying something, but I didn’t know what. Something compelled me to look up—Olivia was leaning on my podium, eyes narrowed, expression illegible. I didn’t know how long she’d been there. She could have only just arrived, or have been there for a few minutes: or perhaps have been there for an eternity, the fragile space between then and now, the feeble perception of reality that we call time. I wanted to feel sad but I couldn’t bring myself to it.

            “’Wonder what Junko has in store for me,” she said, voice flat. When I didn’t respond, she spoke again. “Suppose she’ll pull me into her fold. Break me down until I become Super High School Level Despair again. ‘Course she’ll still execute me along with the rest of you. For the fun of it. Or the symbolism, maybe.”

            “You’re mad at me,” I said.

            She shrugged, eyes wandering. “All of us… we’re tired. We don’t want to keep doing this. Me especially. I expected everyone to waver, myself included, but you? I thought… I don’t know.”

            I glanced down. There was nothing to say.

            “It’s that ahoge,” she said, glancing my way. “It’s tricking me, making me think you’re the protagonist. But you aren’t, of course. No one is. This is the real world. There are no protagonists, no heroes or villains. Just people.”

            “Exactly,” I mumbled. “None of us matter. We’re just people.”

            She laughed.

            “Right. You don’t matter. You, the real one, the one who makes the stories that I’m supposed to be trapped inside. The one who spins the tales, builds the worlds. You don’t matter at all. You’re just a vessel for the creation, just the host to the virus. You’re pointless.”

            “Yep.”

            She scoffed. “You don’t get it, do you? You still think things like the past and the flick of hair on your head actually matter. None of that matters. What matters is here, now. What matters is _you_ —not you three weeks ago, who tricked your friends. You _right now_ , who has the power to amend that, to pick up the pieces and start anew. You can’t change the past, but the future is in flux. The future is yours to command.”

            “No, it isn’t,” I said. “It’s Junko’s now. I failed. I ruined everything. It’s too late.”

            “Too late?” she narrowed her eyes. “Come on, Flynt. I’ve seen you pull us out of worse. All of these trials… Who’s to say _anyone_ would have survived without you around? I may not have been there for them, but with the way people talk about you… I know you’re better than that.”

            “That was before I found out that I was the traitor,” I growled.

            “I don’t believe it,” she said. “I simply don’t believe that that’s all it takes to bring you to your knees. You’re just acting weak because it’s easier.”

            “If you think you’re going to change my mind, it won’t work.”

            “That’s it.” She raised her voice. “Do you any of you have a pair of scissors?”

            Calise looked up. “I do.” She pulled a small pair of safety scissors from her back pocket. At the questioning looks she received, she shrugged. “Cosplay. Or, you know. So I thought. It’s not like our talents were real.”

            “And yet you still carried scissors with you,” Olivia said, walking over to take them. “That’s real, isn’t it?”

            Before Calise could respond, Olivia headed back in my direction, scissors in tow. I tried to find the words to ask her what the hell it was she planned on doing, but before I could put it together in my head she’d leaned forward and snipped my ahoge off. “Hey!” I yelped.

            “Better,” she said. “You didn’t deserve that ahoge. Now there’s no more lies. No more fake protagonists.”

            I was a little hurt, but not because of the missing hair. “What, I wasn’t good enough?”

            “I didn’t say that,” she said. “ _You_ did.” She frowned at me, fire alongside her eyes flickering fiercely. “You know, when Junko first started talking about how you were the traitor, I really didn’t believe her. I just couldn’t see how someone like you could do something like that. But now I _can_ see it. With the way you put yourself down, it’s no surprise that you ended up becoming Super High School Level Despair.”

            “Well what else am I supposed to do?” I cried. “How am I supposed to recover from something like that?”

            “Fix it,” she said. “You’re real. You have the power to change your future. You have the power to become whoever you want to. So who are you?”

            By now we’d attracted the attention of the whole courtroom. I looked at them but found no help. I looked at the banners in the room and found nothing of use. I looked down at the pile of hair in my lap and found no consolation. I looked up at Olivia and found something—something just as bright-eyed and fierce as her. Something that told me maybe I should reconsider. Something just as dangerous as the despair swamping all of us.

            Hope.

            “I…” I took a breath. “W-Who am I? I don’t know. What do you mean?”

            “It’s a simple question!” she said, voice somehow both mocking and comforting. “Junko, she’s just a character. She has to follow the personality that was written for her. But you? You can do and be whatever you want to. So I’m asking you, what have you decided to be?” She danced out to the center of the courtroom and threw her hands up. “ _Who are you, Flynt Coal?_ ”

            The elevator dinged.

            Junko stepped out with an absentminded expression. “Okay, everything’s ready now. Hmm, I wonder who we should start with. Maybe Haley-san? Like I said, I don’t know why she even survived in the first place.”

            “A-Actually…” I trailed off, staring at Junko. She glanced my way, frowning. “I… I think I’ve changed my mind.”

            She laughed. “You can’t change your mind. That was, like, the climax of the story, you know? The point of no return? You can’t go back on a decision like that.”

            “Yeah, but… I think you’re forgetting…” I swallowed, finding my voice. “I think you’re forgetting that this isn’t a story. This is the real world. And in the real world, we can do whatever we want to.”

            “No,” she said. “You’re confused. _I’m_ the one that can do whatever they want to, because I’m not even supposed to exist. Have you even been listening, Flynt-kun? This is—”

            “Shut up,” I said. “Stop talking. It’s annoying.”

            Her expression cleared. “Huh?”

            I realized very suddenly that I was angry. Angrier than I thought was possible. It built up inside of me and then poured over, tumbling out of my mouth like fire from a dragon’s maw. “All you’ve done during this trial is talk. Talk about how powerful you are, how you’re better than us, how much of a disappointment we were. Well I’m sick of it. I’m fucking sick of it. I don’t want to hear your stupid shit anymore. You keep talking about how you’re not real… then why don’t you leave? You don’t fucking belong here.”

            “What, are you going to hold Olivia-chan to the same standard?”

            “I don’t know,” I said. “I might. Cause this is my universe, isn’t it? Not yours. You shouldn’t be here and you’re taking advantage of that fact. _We_ decide who stays and who goes, not you. So get the fuck out.”

            “Eh?” Something similar to fear slipped across her face. “Wh-What…. How did you… What’s happened to your ahoge?”

            “It wasn’t real,” I said. “You know, like you.”

            “H-Huh? What’s this… Hope…?”

            “That’s right. Hope.” The word slipped off my tongue with ease. “I’m not interested in your despair anymore. We’re not dying today.”

            While I spoke, the others had come up to stand at my side. I stole a glance back at them. They looked tired—even Olivia, despite the flames clouding her eyes, had a hint of exhaustion hidden in her irises. I imagined I probably looked just as tired as them; maybe even more so. But just because we were tired didn’t mean we couldn’t fight. I understood that now.

            Junko took a step back. “S… So what? It doesn’t matter if you’re not in despair anymore. I’m still here, aren’t I? And you can’t kill me! So there’s no way for you to win, right? Your hope is useless!”

            “You’ve got that wrong,” I spat, and then lunged for her, grabbing her collar and slamming her against the wall. “You’ve got that wrong.”

            “Let go of me!” She writhed, then paused for a moment, then writhed again. “L-Let go of me! This wasn’t what was supposed to happen! This isn’t how it works! _Let go of me!_ ”

            “You’re really bad at listening, aren’t you?” I spat. “I told you to _shut the fuck up._ And I mean it. I’m tired of hearing your bullshit, Junko. I’m tired of succumbing to everything you say. This is over now. And it’s over because _I_ say so, not you. _I’m_ the one in control here. Get used to it.”

            Her eyes widened. A panicked breath slipped out of her, indecisive, the calm before her final storm. And then her arm swung out, groping the nearby wall until it came in contact with one of the candles hanging there. She yanked it free from its taper and swung at me blindly. I ducked to the side, but her momentum pushed her forwards, forcing me to let her go as she continued to swing the flame about in desperation. The others moved hurriedly out of the way, but even then she still managed to hit something—one of the podiums. The wood was old and dry, the most effective of kindling, and within seconds the entire ring of podiums was set aflame. And then the banners were burning, too. And then the whole of the courtroom was alight, smoke collecting rapidly at the top of the low ceiling.

            Soon all of us were coughing from the heat and smoke, save for Olivia, who didn’t need to breathe. She touched my shoulder and yelled over the roar of the fire, “We need to get out of here! The elevator will probably still work, but only if we’re quick.”

            None of us needed any more convincing. We all quickly piled in, a thick trail of smoke following us. Through streaming eyes, I lifted my head to look back into the courtroom. Fire engulfed everything. But in the corner, against the far wall, I could see Junko, fighting back the flames of her own desperation. She looked around in a daze. She caught my eye. She started screaming. The doors closed and the elevator creaked upwards.

            We were all silent for a long time, doing nothing but struggling to catch our breath. After a few moments, thin wisps of smoke began to slip through the metal floorboards of the elevator. I looked down at them in consternation, then up at Olivia. She pressed her lips together, then glanced up, as though to say, “There’s nothing we can do but hope.” I couldn’t agree more.

            My luck, regardless of whether it was real or not, held true. Soon the elevator grinded to a halt at the top of its ascent, and the doors slipped open. We all exited as quickly as we dared, took a moment to shake off the fear, and then made our way up the stairs to the surface. I’d barely reached the top step when there was a horrible, chilling, earth-shaking noise from beneath us, like a great grinding and groaning and crumbling and crashing. We all ran to the surface, standing there fearfully until the sounds receded.

            Buck’s eyes were wide, flicking across the grass as though he expected to see something useful between the blades. “C…Cave in?”

            “It seems so,” Olivia said, rattled but not unseated. “The whole of the courtroom must have been destroyed.”

            No one had anything else to say. We stood there, watching thin lines of smoke rise from the hole in the ground that had once led to the courtroom—now nothing more than an infernal pit, a tomb. I felt dizzy and sick, but not enough to overcome the pounding of my heart and the thrill running laps through my system. We were _alive_. The six of us, we were alive, and victorious, and safe. It was finally over.

            I glanced at the others, and when they met my gaze, I dared to smile. And they dared to smile back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The "deer in the headlights" bit is a reference that probably only Haley will get. I'm also not going to explain it. 
> 
> Eeehehe I'm just really happy with how this turned out.
> 
> The final part is already done, so it will be here before the day is through. Plus some notes from yours truly.


	39. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's finally over.

EPILOGUE: PYRE

            Clouds scrambled across the sky, like sentries chasing an invisible enemy over an expanse of endless blueness. Grass danced in a light breeze. Sunlight played behind eyelids, vaguely orange and bright; like sunspots, like watching paper burn away, red then black then gray then gone. Trees flexed their waxy leaves in the wind and then clenched their roots in the dirt, as though…

            I won’t mince words.

            It was an absolutely beautiful day.

            Haley was sitting right at the edge of the water, legs crossed, her quiver of arrows in her lap and a pile of cloth balanced on one knee. Buck was hovering beside her with a can of gasoline in his hands, watching as she wrapped each individual arrow. Neil and Calise were sitting next to each other on a nearby rock, a rope trailing from Neil’s hand, across the surface of the water, and to the prow of one of the rowboats. I tried to avoid looking at the rowboat or its contents—all of this was too much to take in as it was.

            It was only a few hours after we’d left the courtroom. Luckily, the courtroom and the rest of the underground wasn’t directly attached, so we had still been able to go down into the catacombs proper and get what we needed. We’d crossed the metal security door to get to Junko’s half, and found the control panel for the electric fence—in short, it was no longer a threat. Olivia had collected a series of files and papers that she’d found down there, for later reading. After all, even though we were safe now, there were still many questions that needed answering.

            And then we’d headed down to the lake. Both of the rowboats were still there. One of them was to carry us across the lake, to the opposite side, where we planned on trekking up to the mansion, just barely visible in the distance. The hope was that something or someone of use could be found there. The other boat had a special cargo, and as such, a special purpose.

            I walked over to Neil and Calise. They weren’t talking, but it was far from being an uncomfortable silence. If anything, they looked the happiest I’d ever seen them before. “Hey you guys,” I said. “Everything okay?”

            “Yep,” Calise said. “I was just watching the water. Y’know, I never noticed it before… But it really is beautiful out here.”

            I glanced up. The surface of the lake was perfectly clean and still, reflecting the bright ring of sunlight and choppy rivers of clouds above it. “Yeah, you’re right,” I said. “You’re completely right.”

            Neil grinned up at me, lightly wiggling the rope in his hand. “This is good,” he said. “This is something really good. I’m happy we’re doing this.”

            I nodded firmly. “Me too.”

            He glanced down at the rope, frowning slightly, then up at me again. “Y’know, I spent so much time worried about my contribution. About what I was doing and how it was impacting what was going on. I kept thinking… I kept thinking that I wasn’t doing enough. That it was somehow my fault that people kept dying. But…” He considered. “I don’t think that’s the right way to look at it anymore. You can’t look at life like a series of rights and wrongs. It’s bigger than that. More complex. And in the end, I did everything I could. Good _and_ bad. And that’s all anyone can really ask for, right?”

            “Right,” I said.

            I headed over to check up on Buck. He was staring at the gasoline can with a serious, contemplative expression. “Hey,” I said.

            “Hey,” he said, then immediately lowered his voice. “Haley’s pretty focused right now. I think she’s nervous.”

            “I’m not nervous!” she yelled from where she knelt, then caught herself. “I’m just… Well this is a big deal, you know? And what if I mess it up? My talent wasn’t even real, so there’s always the chance that I’ll…”

            “Oh, stop,” Buck said. “Even if you’re talent isn’t real, you’ve shot a bow before. Clearly you’ve got some experience or else Junko would have given you a different fake talent. So don’t try to fuck yourself up with thoughts like that. Just focus on what needs to be done.”

            She narrowed her eyes, expression troubled and faraway. “Yeah, yeah. I know. I just… I know.”

            She returned to her previous task of wrapping arrows. I watched her for a few moments, but soon my attention wandered. It was cool out, hinting at the coming winter, but not uncomfortably so. I glanced behind me. Olivia was standing at the top of the hill, hands in her pockets, watching the rest of us in a seemingly untouchable silence. She was no longer enlightened; I couldn’t claim to know how that had worked, but regardless she had gone back to normal. I took the short walk up to where she stood, coming to stand beside her.

            “Nice day for this,” she said. “No wind.”

            “Yeah,” I said, nodding. We were both quiet for a moment, watching the others. “What are you going to do now?” I asked.

            “Hmm?” Her gaze flicked to me, and then away, difficult to read. “Oh, I don’t know. I have options, I guess. There’s a lot out there.” She paused. “Of course it would be appropriate of me to return to the _Dangan Ronpa_ universe. In fact, it would be sort of hypocritical if I didn’t.”

            My heart sunk. “Can you do that? Like, you know how?”

            She shrugged. “I always did, really. It’s the fact of knowing I can do it that makes it possible. Actually, I could probably disappear right now. I just need to will it to be so.”

            I swallowed, struggling to find the right words. “Oh. Of course, yeah. Well. It was nice knowing you.”

            “Yes,” she said. “Quite. You stay safe now.”

            “Yeah… I’ll… Yeah.”

            She laughed suddenly, a light and unexpectedly carefree sound. “I’m not _actually_ leaving, Flynt. I don’t mind being a hypocrite. I’m sure I’ve been much worse things in the past. And anyway, did you really think I was going to condemn myself to an eternity floating uselessly in an unreal world? No, I’m staying here, thank you very much.”

            I returned her laugh, relieved. “Right. Yeah. Of course you weren’t going to leave. I—I knew that.”

            Her smile was a sobering one, the light slowly leaving her eyes. “You, ah… You did well.”

            “It was only because of you that I managed to do _anything_ ,” I muttered.

            “You’re giving me too much credit,” she said, shaking her head. “You think it would have worked if I’d given the same speech to Buck? No, of course not. In fact, it might have made things worse. You may not be a protagonist or a hero, Flynt, but then again no one is. You did what _you_ were capable of. And that’s all that anyone could ask of you.”

            “How can you say things like that?” I asked. “So confidently?”

            The light returned to Olivia’s eyes. “I have absolutely no idea. Now come on, let’s go set a boat on fire.”

            Haley had finished wrapping the arrows, and now Buck was dipping each one into the gasoline can as she prepared her bow. Olivia and I walked up just as Neil was calling to her, “Ready when you are.”

            “Yes, of course, just… gotta make sure…” She turned to Buck. “Does this string look okay to you?”

            “How the fuck would I know?” he snapped.

            Calise giggled. “It’s going to be fine, Haley.”

            “Okay…” she took a deep breath and the first arrow from Buck, notching it through the bowstring. “Okay. I’m ready, Neil.”

            With one tug of the string he pulled the boat closer to him, that levered his foot against it and kicked off. It made good speed, drifting across the lake towards its center. Haley lifted her bow. Buck leaned forward with his lighter and the tip lit up with a brilliant hiss and flare of flame. She set her stance and pulled back, eyes narrowed; I heard her draw a small, soft breath, and then released.

            The arrow arched through the air, across the water, and sunk into the heart of the boat. After a brief moment I could see the flames rising from its center, slowly burning into the bodies of our friends on board. My heart pounded.

            “Another,” Haley said. “We need to make sure.”

            Buck gave her the arrow; she set and shot again, this time quicker and more confident. The arrow hit its mark once more, and with it more flames rose into the sky.

            “Another.”

            The rush of the string failed to drown out the lull of the flames in the distance. I watched them in silence.

            “Another.”

            Buck frowned. “Haley—”

            “ _Another._ ”

            He gave her the arrow. She set, shot, and this time didn’t ask again, simply snatching the next arrow from Buck’s hand. Set, shot, snatched. Set, shot, snatched. Set, shot, snatched. Her arms were shaking as she set again, frame quivering, expression crumpled. Her stance wavered and the arrow arched off into the water to the right of the boat.

            She groped the air blindly for the next arrow. “Another… G-Give me another one.”

            “Haley…”

            “Buck! Goddamnit! I missed, didn’t you see? Give me another arrow!”

            He stepped back, glancing furtively at the water. “The boat’s already on fire, Haley. We don’t need to shoot anymore—”

            “Another!” She all but screamed—and then she did scream. “ _Why won’t you give me another fucking arrow?_ ”

            Haley looked about ready to lunge at Buck. I stepped in between them, taking one of her shaking hands. “Haley…” I said. “It’s okay. You did great. You don’t need to do anymore now, okay?”

            She stared at me. Her lip quivered, and then she collapsed, head falling to my chest as great, terrible sobs shook her form. “They’re dead, Flynt. E-Everyone… They’re dead…”

            The others had fallen silent. The only sounds in the whole of the world, it seemed, was that of the burning pyre and Haley’s cries. I put my arms around her and stood there in the sobering quiet. A moment later, Buck touched my shoulder. I craned my neck to see that he had an arrow in his hands. I took it and gently pulled away, holding it up for Haley to see.

            “One more, yeah?”

            She nodded, beyond words. But when she went to set the arrow her hands were still shaking and she had no control over her form, the bow quivering in her grasp. I gently reached out and put my hand around hers on the bow, steadying her. I had no idea how to shoot, but she was doing the aiming, so it was just as well. A moment later the arrow flew free, and all of us watched as it fell into the burning pyre. The flames were so high at this point that I couldn’t tell if that single arrow had made a difference, but it didn’t matter. Haley’s quivering stilled beneath me. That _did_ matter.

            Calise came up behind us and took her hand, drawing her away from the scene. But I stood there, right at the shoreline, watching the flames lick the sky. Ryan, Pam, Dani, Ohanzee, Jae, Jason, Enoch, Gigi, Max, Caehl… All of them were now held within that pyre, their remains serving to make the flames arch even further up into the sky, as if to touch the fabric of the universe itself. I couldn’t claim to know where they were now. But in that moment, it didn’t seem to matter. In that moment, it was almost like they were there with us, watching the scene, full and sated and complete.

            Olivia walked up beside me. We both stared at the fire for a long time.

            “You know what convinced me to keep fighting Junko?” she said at length. “To go enlightened, and all that?”

            “What?” I asked.

            “Them,” she said, nodding towards the pyre. “All of them. When Junko said all that stuff about me not being real, I really did want to give up. But then I kept thinking about everyone who had died. How if I’d acted sooner, we might have been able to avoid their deaths. And I knew that I owed it to them to make sure that the rest of us survived.”

            My throat seemed to be closing up. “Good motivation,” I murmured shortly.

            She paused, looking like she had something that she wanted to say. But then her expression softened and she grinned at my hairline. “That’s going to grow back funny.”

            “You’re the one who cut it,” I muttered, churlish.

            “I know,” she said. “I know.”

~ ~ ~ ~

            Some time later, the pyre was beginning to die down. The others looked tired, but (for once) not in a sad way. In fact, they seemed completely and utterly content. I slowly stood. “I guess it’s time to go.”

            “Yeah,” Calise said softly. “I guess so.”

            “About time,” Buck grumbled. “I don’t want to spend another second at this campsite.”

            “That makes two of us,” Neil said.

            Haley glanced up at me a little shyly, and then nodded. “We should get going.”

            Olivia was already sitting in the second boat, knees drawn up to her chest and expression complacent. She pointed in the general direction of the mansion in the distance. “That’s where we’re headed, right?”

            “That’s right,” I said. “Do you think we’ll find anything useful?”

            She shrugged. “Worth a shot.”

            One by one, we got into the boat. I entered last, leaning against the prow.

            Haley glanced at the campsite behind us, eyes narrowed. “We’re leaving. We’re really leaving.”

            I nodded.

            “Ready when you are,” Olivia murmured to me.

            I glanced at her, then back at the shore. The water beneath us lapped languidly at the sand, as though it might give up on the entire process at any moment. In the near distance, the buildings and the facilities of the campsite hunkered like shadowy figures. Beneath them, I knew, was a whole series of tunnels and secrets, hidden away and awaiting exploration. Maybe we would come back here. Maybe we would find more. Who knew? But right now, we were leaving.

            Out on the water, the pyre was dying down, remains sinking slowly to the bottom of the lake. More secrets, but this time they were ours. Something that we had crafted with our own hands—both the good and the bad of it. And around us, the world shuddered. There was no way of knowing if anyone else had survived the war; if there was even any other living soul left. But no matter what, we were going to fix things. We were going to make things right. Because we alone had that power.

            I pushed off the shore and into a world of endless possibilities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for some stats. According to my Word Document:  
> Pages: 479  
> Word Count: 166,030  
> Characters (with spaces): 901,980  
> Paragraphs: 5,109  
> Time since the first chapter was posted: 8 months and 21 days  
> Comments upon completion: 27  
> Kudos upon completion: 42  
> Bookmarks upon completion: 4  
> Hits upon completion: 2714
> 
> ~ ~ ~ ~  
> Phew. That was quite the adventure! A special thanks to everyone who accompanied me on the road to its completion. There's talk going 'round of a sequel. That talk has some validity. I'll keep you updated, don't worry. 
> 
> Now I'd like to go ahead and catalogue some of the things I would want to change if I rewrote this story. Which isn't going to happen, by the way. But I wanted to point out my mistakes, from my point of view, for my own sake if no one else's.  
> 1\. Change a great deal of Chapter 2--most notably the investigation and trial. Chapter 2 was actually the first chapter that I fleshed out and plotted, but it came across as the weakest chapter due to me being distracted and distant while writing it. Needs a serious rework.  
> 2\. Completely rewrite Pam and Ohanzee's characters. Both of them are examples of characters that I had absolutely no idea what I was doing with until after they were dead. They're also characters that I liked quite a lot. Now that I know more about them and how I /wanted/ to approach them, they definitely deserve an overhaul.  
> 3\. Change my approach to (or at least experiment with) the usage of pronouns. Although I enjoyed what I did with Jae's pronouns, I think they deserved a revisit. I needed to find a format where I was consistently inconsistent in so such a way that I could use a certain pronoun during the narrative without it being confusing: something that I completely failed to do. It wasn't bad, perse, just could have been better.  
> 4\. Changed, or at least revisited, my explanation for Jason's insanity. Some of you have pointed out to me that the explanation in Chapter 6 doesn't sync up with the explanation for how Jason found out about everything. I have noted to some of you that it's possible Junko straight-up told him everything to force him to go insane. But this means that she /was/ rigging the mutual killing to follow the story's format, and that raises some tricky questions that I don't entirely want to get into. So, in short, it needs to be reevaluated.  
> 5\. Gone into more depth with Gigi's character during Chapter 4. I don't want to brag, but I found Chapter 4 to have close to no fault, save for this. I only made one brief, mid-sentence mention of some of Gigi's main issues as a character during her climax inference, and as a result she comes off as a little too perfect. And I had the space to discuss such things, too. I just neglected to do so. So that needs a revisit.  
> 6\. Made Max's desire to fix Olivia's memories more omnipresent throughout the whole of the story. Although not a huge complaint, I was a little inconsistent with that.  
> 7\. Not have changed the color scheme of Olivia's outfit at the end of Chapter 5. Haley thankfully forgot about it when she was doing her Enlightened!Olivia edits, and as a result I realized that she looks much better in the same outfit than in the new one. (Those with a keen eye might notice that I edited the outfit change out of the chapter. That's how much it was bothering me.)  
> 8\. Although it's not something that needs fixing, were I to rewrite this story I would look a little more closely at the order in which I revealed things during the Chapter 6 trial. It reads fine as-is, but I feel like there could have been a better, cleaner way for me to present everything.  
> 9\. Made Neil's desire to protect the other kids more omnipresent throughout the whole of the story. This was another thing that I was fairly inconsistent with, partially due to the fact that I didn't come up with it until Chapter 3.  
> 10\. Give Haley and Calise more character development. Haley has her shining moment in this part, which sort of makes up for it, but as a whole both of them deserved more attention and plot. 
> 
> ~ ~ ~ ~  
> That's all I can think of off the top of my head.  
> ...I seriously just can't believe this damn thing is done. 
> 
> Again, thank you to everyone who has read and is reading this story. Your support means more to me than I can put in words. 
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr for more bullshit and suffering. And also to get new information faster, I'd imagine.  
> http://deadcanons.tumblr.com
> 
> Also, please send me an ask if you want to add me on Facebook or be added to the Dangan Ronpa group. We're always happy to have new people. (GLANCES AT CYTHRO WITH WIDE EYES I MEAN WHAT)


	40. Updates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will contain any and all information pertaining to Re:kindle or its sequels after its ending.

**October 28th:** Work on the script for Re_dux, the sequel, began.

 **November 11th:** I reached 20,986 words and then immediately stopped writing out of frustration.

 **November 23rd:** I wrote the first of two super-secret games I’m making to practice use with RPGMaker.

 **November 26th:** I almost finished the second of the two super-secret games.

 **November 30th:** I once again failed to win NaNoWriMo.

 **December 1st:** The icon that I have had on this account since I created it nine months ago finally became seasonally relevant.

 **December 2nd:** I started updating this log like I said I would.

 **January 19th:** I am met with the startling realization that I have no idea how to write a video game.

 **January 20th:** Finished the scripts for both of the secret games.

 **January 21st through March 16th:** Once again completely forgot to update this log like a fucking dunce. Basically what happened during this period of time was that I started the story over from scratch, got halfway through the prologue, dropped it for about a month, and then the following bullet points happened. 

**March 15th:** Rewrote the story for the third time, this time as a story instead of a script. 

**March 16th:** Was met with considerable success with this third version. 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Dangan Ronpa Re:Kindle Re:Start](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2213235) by [Wiccacow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wiccacow/pseuds/Wiccacow)




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